THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

RIVERSIDE 


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in  2007  with  funding  from 

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http://www.archive.org/details/columbiaOOkeppiala 


AMERICAN   COLLEGE 

AND 

UNIVERSITY   SERIES 

General  Editor:  GEORGE  PHILIP  KRAPP,  Ph.D. 

Professor  of  English  in  Columbia  University 


The  University  at  Night 


*     >-/         o*-       '       tJ      ^^  '-^       '  » 


COLUMBIA 


FREDERICK   PAUL   KEPPEL 

Dean  of  Columbia  College 


NEW  YORK 
OXFORD  UNIVERSITY  PRESS 

AMERICAN  BRANCH:    35  West  32nd  Street 

LONDON,  TORONTO.  MELBOURNE.  AND  BOMBAY 
HUMPHREY  MILFORD 

1914 

ALL  RIQHTa  EESERVED 


LDSP-  ^f 


Copyright,  igi4 
BY  Oxford  University  Press 

AMERICAN  BRANCH 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 

CHAFTBB  PAGE 

Introductory   .       .       .       .       .       .        ix-xvi 

I    The  Background 1 

II    The  University  of  To-day    ....  28 

III  Ways  and  IMeans 64 

IV  Educational  Organization  ....  99 
V    Teachers  and  Executives    ....  145 

VI    Students  and  Student  Life  ....  173 

VII    An  Academic  Year 206 

VIII    Conclusion 228 

Appendix  : 

A.  Statistics  fob  1857,  1890,  1901,  1913  ...  275 

B.  Financial  Summaby,  1912-13 275 

C.  Student  Enrolment 276 

D.  Geogbaphical  Distbibution  op  Students,  1896, 

1913 277 

E.  Statistics  REaABDiNQ  Bihldings    ....  278 

F.  Gifts  of  $50,000  and  above.  Class  Memorials  .  280 

IlTOEX 287 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

The  University  at  Night   ....     Frontispiece 
From  a  platinum  print  by  Mr.  Karl  Struss. 

FACING  PAGE 

Columbia  at  Forty-ninth  Street       ....       33 

South  Court  and  the  Library 49 

From  a  photograph  by  Mr,  Ambrose  Fowler. 

Model  of  the  University  Buildings  ....       81 
From  a  photograph  by  Mr.  Ambrose  Fowler. 

St.  Paul's  Chapel 97 

From  a  photograph  by  Mr.  August  Patzig. 

Barnard  College 113 

From  a  photograph  by  Mr.  Ambrose  Fowler. 

Teachers  College,  from  the  Green  ....     129 
From  a  photograph  by  Miss  Amy  Whittemore. 

College  Teachers  in  1886 169 

Kent  and  Hamilton 209 

From  a  photograph  by  Mr.  Ambrose  Fowler. 

Alma  Mater,  by  Daniel  Chester  French  .       .       .     259 


INTRODUCTORY 

"Where  should  the  scholar  live?  In  solitude,  or  in  society, 
in  the  green  stillness  of  the  country,  where  he  can  hear  the 
heart  of  Nature  beat,  or  in  the  dark  gray  town,  where  he  can 
hear  and  feel  the  throbbing  heart  of  man?  I  make  answer  for 
him,  and  say,  in  the  dark  gray  town." — Longfellow. 

Columbia  University  is  but  one  of  many  homes  for 
the  city  scholar.  In  the  United  States  alone  there  are 
eight  hundred  degree-granting  institutions,  most  of  them 
in  or  near  the  cities.  A  good  number  of  them  have 
been  dubbed  universities  for  no  better  reason  than  the 
impressive  sound  of  the  word,  until  in  some  sections  uni- 
versities are  no  rarer  than  colonels.  The  abuse  of  the 
name,  however,  must  not  blind  us  to  the  significance  in 
our  life  of  the  real  university,  which,  as  the  medieval 
cathedral  stood  six  hundred  years  ago,  stands  to-day 
as  the  best  embodiment  of  the  uplifting  forces  of  the 
human  spirit.  In  1893  Professor  von  Hoist  declared  that 
we  did  not  have  a  single  university  in  the  sense  in  which 
the  term  is  used  in  Europe.  To-day  there  are  on  the 
North  American  continent  a  score.  No  one  of  them  is 
the  great  American  university.  Each  leads  the  others 
in  one  field  or  another.  It  is,  indeed,  to  the  general  in- 
terest that  each  should  maintain  a  character  true  to  its 
historic  relations  and  just  to  the  work  it  finds  to  do. 

In  the  pages  that  follow  I  have  endeavored  to  em- 
phasize the  matters  in  which  Columbia  differs  for  bet- 
ter or  for  worse  from  other  institutions,  and  have  omit- 
ted, or  treated  as  briefly  as  possible,  those  which  are 
characteristic  of  our  universities  in  general. 

ix 


X  INTRODUCTORY 

Columbia  suffers  to-day  from  one  too  obvious  charac- 
teristic, the  immense  number  of  students.  During  the 
past  twenty-five  years,  the  aggregate  growth  of  the  stu- 
dent body  in  the  most  important  American  universities 
has  been  almost  uniform;  in  other  words,  the  "  curve  " 
has  been  a  straight  line.  But  Columbia  has  grown  more 
rapidly  than  any  of  her  sisters,  and,  taking  into  consid- 
eration her  enormous  size  and  her  real  youth  as  a  uni- 
versity, it  is  not  strange  that  in  many  cases  too  much 
is  expected  of  her,  as  it  often  is  of  an  overgrown  child. 
It  need  hardly  be  said  that  Columbia  is  herself  pain- 
fully aware  of  her  deficiencies;  indeed,  since  the  first 
stirrings  of  university  life,  some  fifty-odd  years  ago, 
she  has  been  rather  conspicuously  insufficient  unto  her- 
self. 

At  present  she  has  also  the  largest  financial  resources 
among  American  universities.  This  predominance,  like 
that  in  numbers,  may  well  be  only  temporary,  in  view  of 
the  already  magnificent  and  rapidly  increasing  annual 
appropriations  to  the  State  and  Provincial  universities, 
to  say  nothing  of  the  immense  potential  value  of  the  lands 
which  some  of  them  own.  Twenty-five  years  ago  Colum- 
bia was  popularly  supposed  to  have  more  money  than 
she  knew  what  to  do  with,  but  President  Low  and  Presi- 
dent Butler  have,  I  think,  effectually  disabused  the  pub- 
lie  mind  on  this  point,  Columbia's  wealth  is  significant, 
indeed,  not  so  much  in  its  amount  as  in  its  origin.  The 
ordinary  sources  of  university  wealth  have  hardly  been 
touched.  Nothing  has  come  from  the  national  govern- 
ment, through  the  Morrill  Grant  or  otherwise.  For 
nearly  a  century  nothing  has  been  received  from  the 
State  of  New  York,  and  for  a  century  and  a  half  noth- 
ing from  any  religious  body.  Of  the  two  great  national 
patron  saints  of  learning  to-day,  St.  Andrew  has  not 


INTRODUCTORY  xi 

yet  identified  himself  with  Columbia,  and  the  direct 
gifts  of  St.  John,  although  useful  and  welcome,  bear 
but  a  small  proportion  either  to  his  general  largess  or 
to  the  resources  of  the  institution.  The  alumni  body 
of  the  undergraduate  schools  is  relatively  small  and, 
in  spite  of  a  few  instances  of  striking  generosity,  the 
gifts  of  alumni  as  a  whole  make  but  a  relatively  small 
total. 

Columbia  is  what  she  is  because  she  is  Columbia 
University  in  the  City  of  New  York.  Her  growth  has 
been  a  function  of  the  growth  of  the  city,  and  it  is  to 
the  city  that  she  owes  and  is  trying  to  pay  her  chief 
debt.  It  is  important  to  emphasize  this  just  now,  because 
her  increasing  hold  upon  the  country  at  large  is  obscur- 
ing her  fundamental  relation  to  the  city. 

It  was  a  little  group  of  New  Yorkers  who  founded 
King's  College  in  1754,  when  Manhattan  Island  had 
fewer  inhabitants  than  the  University  now  has  stu- 
dents and  but  thirteen  of  them  held  academic  degrees. 
Then  as  now,  however,  the  population  was  extraordi- 
narily diverse  in  make-up — a  diversity  that  has  been  re- 
flected from  the  first  both  in  the  cosmopolitanism  of 
the  faculty  and  in  the  various  elements  in  the  student 
body.  In  a  time  of  bitter  religious  controversy,  these 
men  drew  a  charter  which,  when  we  remember  that  Har- 
vard and  Yale  were  then  hardly  more  than  sectarian 
divinity  schools,  was  extraordinarily  liberal.  It  was  a 
day  of  narrow  intellectual  outlook;  Oxford  and  Cam- 
bridge were  at  a  low  ebb,  the  British  Museum  was  but 
a  year  old,  and  "  Johnson's  Dictionary  "had  not  yet 
been  published.  The  first  announcement  of  King's  Col- 
lege, nevertheless,  showed  a  breadth  of  scope  and  a  con- 
fidence in  the  future  that  were  remarkable.  If,  how- 
ever, intellectual  life  was  unprogressive,  it  was  on  the 


xii  INTRODUCTORY 

other  hand  a  time  of  keen  political  ferment.  It  was  in 
1754  that  the  Colonial  Congress  met  at  Albany  to  discuss 
Colonial  Union.  The  little  college  soon  caught  the  spirit 
of  the  day,  and  I  think  I  am  right  in  saying  that  the 
alumni  and  students  of  no  institution  took  a  more  prom- 
inent part  proportionally  to  their  numbers  in  the  Amer- 
ican Revolution,  and  in  the  founding  of  the  Republic. 
The  institution  that  trained  Hamilton  and  Livingston 
and  Jay  justified  its  existence  to  New  York,  and  to  the 
nation  at  large ;  and,  although  the  nation  paid  but  little 
heed  to  her  for  a  century  or  more,  the  fortunes  of  the 
College  and  of  the  City  were  from  then  on  bound  closely 
together. 

When  peace  was  restored,  the  first  student  to  enter 
the  College,  now  Columbia — the  word  had  been  coined 
and  popularized  in  a  Revolutionary  war  song — ^was  De- 
Witt  Clinton,  and  it  was  he  who,  with  three  other  alumni 
— Morris,  Stevens,  and  Tompkins — ^made  the  growth  of 
New  York  possible  by  strengthening  her  strategic  posi- 
tion through  the  construction  of  canal  and  railroad. 

For  nearly  a  century  the  city  did  little  in  return,  and 
the  financial  struggles  of  the  College,  while  less  pic- 
turesque than  those  of  the  State  universities,  were  no 
less  bitter  and  were  made  the  harder  by  the  necessity  for 
the  genteel  keeping-up  of  urban  appearances.  Finally, 
however,  the  increase  in  population  gave  value  to  two 
tracts  of  land,  one  of  which  had  been  given  by  Trinity 
Church,  with  a  small  addition  from  the  city,  and  the 
other  by  the  State  Legislature.  Without  the  rents  from 
these  tracts  the  later  development  into  a  university  would 
have  been  impossible.  It  was  not  until  the  end  of  the 
nineteenth  century  that  any  considerable  addition  was 
made  to  the  endowment  from  private  sources.  The  mag- 
nificent gifts  of  recent  years  have  in  the  great  majority 


INTRODUCTORY  xiii 

of  cases  been  made  by  New  Yorkers  who  wished  in  some 
appropriate  way  to  express  their  obligation  to  the  city. 
No  better  example  can  be  given  than  the  bequest  of  John 
Stewart  Kennedy  in  equal  parts  to  the  University,  the 
Public  Library,  the  Museum  of  Art,  and  the  Presbyte- 
rian Hospital. 

From  the  first  Columbia,  if  poor  in  funds,  has  been 
wealthy  in  the  men  who  have  served  her.  Of  those  no 
longer  living,  four  at  least  had  in  large  degree  the  proph- 
et 's  vision :  Samuel  Johnson,  Hamilton  Fish,  Samuel  Rug- 
gles,  and  Frederick  A.  P.  Barnard.  It  is  noteworthy  that 
all  were  trustees ;  for  the  loyalty,  courage,  and  foresight 
of  her  trustees  have  been  from  the  beginning  until  the 
present  day  a  notable  and  vital  characteristic.  She  has 
had  also  from  the  first  her  great  teachers  and  her  great 
scholars;  without  these  no  university  can  come  into 
being.  In  the  words  of  President  Butler's  inaugural: 
"  The  thirst  of  man  for  the  truth,  his  imperious  ambi- 
tion to  know  what  lies  behind  the  screen  that  veils  new 
knowledge  from  his  eyes,  his  anxious  haste  to  touch  the 
hem  of  the  garment  of  a  great  personality,  a  great 
scholar,  a  seer,  a  prophet  of  literature  or  of  science — 
these  are  the  feelings  stirring  in  the  hearts  and  minds 
of  men  that  have  brought  them  into  membership  with 
universities  and  that  have  given  universities  to  the 
world." 

About  the  original  College  a  number  of  schools  have 
clustered,  partly  by  outgrowth  from  within,  partly  by 
annexation,  and  partly  by  treaties  of  federation.  Colum- 
bia's organization  has  been  likened  to  the  British  consti- 
tution, on  the  ground  that  it  ought  not  to  work  but  it 
does.  She  has  been  called  a  complex  congeries  of  prov- 
inces, allies,  crown  colonies,  protectorates,  residencies, 
and  native  states.    Her  treatment  of  certain  problems 


xiv  INTRODUCTORY 

arising  from  her  characteristic  development  may  have 
its  lesson  for  those  outside  her  walls,  notably  her  achieve- 
ment of  essential  educational  unity  in  spite  of  diverse 
financial  control  and  initiative,  her  attempts  to  solve 
the  problem  of  an  unprecedentedly  rapid  and  diversi- 
fied growth  by  the  gradual  but  rigorous  raising  of  stand- 
ards, and  by  close  attention  to  what  is  called  in  business 
"  functional  administration,"  Not  alone  by  formal  ar- 
rangements for  exchange  of  professors,  and  by  world- 
wide distribution  of  students,  but  even  more  by  the 
countless  intangible  effects  of  the  freemasonry  of  scholar- 
ship, the  institution  to-day  holds  a  place  of  national  and 
international  importance  among  universities. 

Columbia's  academic  peace  has  not  been  unbroken, 
but  even  her  troubles  have  their  usefulness  if  their  les- 
sons can  be  read  aright.  At  the  very  outset  there  were 
violent  protests  at  the  prominent  part  taken  by  Trinity 
Church.  There  was  another  heated  period  in  1811  upon 
the  appointment  of  a  Presbyterian  executive.  This  was 
the  year  of  a  riot  at  Commencement  that  affected  New 
York  politics  for  long  afterward.  There  was  further 
excitement  at  the  time  of  the  founding  of  New  York 
Universily  in  1830.  Twenty-four  years  later  a  bitter 
controversy  regarding  a  professorial  appointment  pre- 
vented the  celebration  of  the  centennial  of  the  founding 
of  the  College  and  led  to  an  investigation  by  the  State 
Senate.  In  1891  the  reorganization  of  the  School  of 
Law  against  the  desire  of  the  venerable  and  renowned 
Professor  Dwight  precipitated  another  controversy.  The 
abolition  of  intercollegiate  football  in  1905  upon  the 
ground  that,  for  Columbia  at  any  rate,  the  game  had 
become  an  academic  nuisance,  was  the  occasion  of  vig- 
orous protest.  Within  recent  years  the  University  has 
received  much  criticism  with  respect  to  the  departure 


INTKODUCTORY  xv 

of  certain  prominent  professors.  Some  eases  were  clearly 
"  academic  suicides,"  others  were  caused  by  honest  dif- 
ferences of  opinion,  by  misunderstandings,  or  by  in- 
evitable clashes  of  temperament.  Like  most  of  the 
world's  troubles,  some  might  have  been  averted  if  fore- 
sight were  as  clear  as  hindsight,  and  all  of  them  were 
aggravated  by  the  high  pressure  of  city  life,  and  by  a 
city  press  eager  for  "  stories  "  and  not  too  scrupulous 
as  to  where  they  are  obtained  or  how  they  are  em- 
broidered. The  difference  between  the  real  facts  and  the 
published  reports  has  sometimes  been  absurd.  Any  uni- 
versity must  expect  criticism,  deserved  and  undeserved, 
but  the  serious  public  is  fortunately  learning  to  build  its 
judgments  not  upon  incidental  difficulties,  but  upon  gen- 
eral service  to  the  community. 

In  writing  this  book  it  has  not  been  easy  to  make  a 
satisfactory  selection  of  those  details  which,  to  quote 
a  character  in  "  The  Mikado,"  are  needed  to  embellish 
and  adorn  an  otherwise  bald  and  uninteresting  narra- 
tive. Since  the  University  came  into  conscious  being, 
about  twenty  years  ago,  so  much  has  come  into  print 
that  one  meets  truly  the  embarrassment  of  wealth.  In 
particular.  Professor  Van  Amringe  and  Mr.  Pine  of  the 
Board  of  Trustees  deserve  all  praise  for  their  preserva- 
tion of  historical  traditions  and  their  laborious  col- 
lection of  material,  as  does  also  Professor  Munroe  Smith 
for  his  invaluable  use  of  this  material  in  describing  the 
actual  organizing  of  the  University.  I  am  indebted 
mainly  to  the  '*  History  of  Columbia  University,"  pub- 
lished upon  the  150th  anniversary  of  the  founding  of 
King's  College,  to  the  annual  reports  of  Presidents  Bar- 
nard, Low,  and  Butler  with  their  appendices,  to  the 
Columbia  University  Quarterly,  the  Alumni  News,  the 
various  student  publications,  and  the  Columbia  Hand- 


xvi  INTRODUCTORY 

hooh,  recently  published  by  the  University  Press.  It  will 
be  seen  also  that  much  has  been  borrowed  from  Dr.  Slos- 
son's  suggestive  and  stimulating  comments  in  **  Great 
American  Universities."  Since  my  book  makes  no  pre- 
tensions to  original  historical  scholarship,  I  have  ven- 
tured to  avoid  quotation  marks  and  footnotes  by  a  prefa- 
tory general  confession  that  in  many  places  "  what  I 
thought  I  might  require  I  went  and  took." 

It  has  been  my  effort  throughout  to  select  and  ar- 
range the  material  with  a  view  to  emphasizing  what 
seems  to  me  to  be  the  fundamentally  important  thing — 
the  essential  unity  of  the  University  in  organization  and 
in  spirit,  rather  than  to  try  to  give  a  detailed  picture  of 
its  diverse  component  elements. 


THE  BACKGROUND 

The  Real  Birthday.  Strivings  Before  1852.  Financial  and 
Other  Factors.  The  Old  College.  Inquiry  by  Trustees'  Commit- 
tee. Statutes  of  1858.  Law  and  Mines.  President  Barnard. 
His  Work  and  its  Importance.  The  Reports.  College  Studies  and 
Discipline.  Advanced  Work.  Professional  Courses.  Training  of 
Teachers.  Admission  of  Women.  Barnard's  Personality  and 
Memory. 

Columbia  may  be  said  to  have  had  not  one  birthday, 
but  three:  a  first  in  1754,  when  Samuel  Verplanek  en- 
rolled himself  as  a  member  of  King's  College;  a  second 
when  DeWitt  Clinton  in  1787  was  examined  for  ad- 
mission to  the  revived  institution,  newly  christened 
Columbia  College ;  and  a  third  when  a  body  of  respect- 
able middle-aged  New  York  gentlemen  adopted  what 
is  known  as  the  Report  of  1857.  The  centennial  of 
the  second  birthday  was  duly  commemorated  in  1887, 
the  sesqui-centennial  of  the  first  was  made  an  occa- 
sion of  fitting  academic  pomp  in  1904;  the  third  birth- 
day has  never  been  celebrated,  but  it  is,  nevertheless,  the 
real  birthday  of  Columbia  University  as  we  know  it  to- 
day. At  the  risk  of  being  fanciful,  I  might  liken  the 
growth  of  the  institution  to  that  of  a  tree;  the  roots 
are  laid  in  the  period  prior  to  the  Revolution,  then  a 
long  unbranching  trunk  up  to  the  middle  of  the  nine- 
teenth century,  nearly  a  hundred  years  of  slow  develop- 
ment without  expansion.  Following  the  Report  of  1857 
came  the  budding  of  the  great  branches  which  more  than 
anything  else  were  to  change  the  small,  almost  parochial 


2  THE  BACKGROUND 

college  into  the  great  university  of  to-day.  The  crown 
of  the  tree  was  to  come  long  years  later,  but  it  never 
could  have  been  formed  without  the  work  of  the  men 
of  1857,  who  mark  the  conscious  beginning  of  the  Uni- 
versity. It  was  not  so  long  ago,  after  all.  One  of  our  ac- 
tive trustees  to-day  was  an  alumnus  of  ten  years'  stand- 
ing when  this  report  was  adopted,  and  another  was  an 
undergraduate  in  the  College. 

The  movement  which  began  in  1852  upon  the  sugges- 
tion of  President  King  was  not  indeed  the  first  attempt 
on  the  part  of  Columbia  to  become  a  university.  As  far 
back  as  1774,  a  proposed  Charter  of  an  American  Uni- 
versity was  approved  by  the  Governors  of  King's  Col- 
lege, and  forwarded  to  London.  The  outbreak  of  the 
Revolution,  however,  left  it  in  some  Government  pigeon- 
hole, where  it  doubtless  still  lies.  The  contribution  of 
the  institution  to  those  stirring  times  was  made  indeed 
rather  through  the  students — Hamilton,  Livingston,  Jay, 
and  others — ^than  through  the  faculty  and  governors. 
A  second  attempt  was  made  in  1784  when  the  State 
Legislature  adopted  an  elaborate  scheme  for  a  State 
university  with  the  old  King's  College  as  its  core.  A 
third  attempt  was  made  in  1810,  and  a  fourth  in  1830. 
The  fifth  attempt,  indeed,  was  also  apparently  doomed 
to  failure.  The  Schools  of  Jurisprudence,  Letters,  and 
Science,  founded  in  1858,  died  almost  stillborn.  The 
College,  however,  had  builded  better  than  it  knew,  and 
from  some  of  the  incidental  changes  made  as  a  result  of 
the  long  and  searching  investigation  of  that  day  have 
come  the  far-reaching  results  which  make  this  the  real 
birthday  of  the  University.  There  were  two  reasons  why 
this  fifth  attempt  succeeded  where  the  others  had  failed 
— the  first  material,  and  the  second  spiritual.  In  1^57, 
the  College  was  just  beginning  to  see  the  outcome  of  the 


FINANCIAL  AND  OTHER  FACTORS  3 

courageous  policy  of  her  trustees  in  holding  the  land  of 
the  institution  during  long  years  of  bitter  and  humiliat- 
ing poverty.  In  1820,  the  total  income  had  fallen  to 
about  $13,000.  Thirty  years  later,  it  was  only  $15,000, 
with  a  heavy  debt  as  a  result  of  successive  annual  defi- 
cits. It  was  not  indeed  until  1863  that  the  increasing 
income  was  suflScient  to  meet  the  cost  of  annual  main- 
tenance and  not  until  1872  that  the  accumulated  debts 
were  wiped  out.  During  its  early  years,  Columbia  had 
turned  to  the  State  for  assistance  in  times  of  financial 
need,  and  had,  it  is  true,  received  not  infrequent  grants, 
which  apparently  were  given  somewhat  in  the  spirit 
of  the  man  in  the  parable  who  aided  his  neighbor  be- 
cause of  his  importunity.  At  any  rate,  Columbia  never 
fared  nearly  so  well  as  her  northern  neighbor,  Union 
College,  in  the  matter  of  grants  in  cash.  The  last  gift 
of  the  State,  the  Hosack  Botanical  Garden  (presented 
as  a  sort  of  recompense  because  a  previous  grant  of  land 
in  the  northern  part  of  what  was  supposed  to  be  New 
York  had  turned  out  to  be  in  Vermont),  was  regarded 
by  the  trustees  as  a  particularly  white  and  unwelcome 
elephant.  Indeed,  at  the  time  of  its  transfer,  it  would 
not  have  brought  more  than  $6,000  or  $7,000  at  public 
sale.  As  the  city  grew,  however,  the  value  of  this  land 
increased,  as  did  that  of  the  previous  grant  by  Trinity 
Church  in  the  lower  part  of  the  city,  and  the  trustees 
must  often  have  been  sorely  tempted  to  meet  their  press- 
ing obligations  by  the  sale  of  real  estate.  Their  courage 
in  holding  on,  which  was  strengthened  perhaps  by  some 
unfortunate  earlier  ventures,  was,  as  we  now  know, 
miraculously  rewarded,  and  as  early  as  1850  it  became 
clear  that  the  time  had  come  when  they  not  only  could 
but  should  build  for  the  future.  The  material  prospects 
of  the  College,  in  a  word,  were  wholly  different  from 


4  THE  BACKGROUND 

what  they  were  at  the  time  of  the  previous  efforts  to- 
ward expansion. 

The  second  and  even  more  important  factor  was  that 
of  human  personality.  The  newly  elected  president, 
Charles  King,  was  a  man  of  experience  and  broad  point 
of  view,  and  it  was  he  who  in  1852  called  attention  to 
the  opportunities  and  responsibilities  of  the  College  for 
the  future.  It  is  characteristic  of  Columbia,  however, 
that  the  actual  constructive  work  was  done  by  a  group 
of  men  in  the  Board  of  Trustees.  The  original  commit- 
tee on  the  college  course  was  selected  by  ballot  and  con- 
sisted of  William  Betts,  Dr.  Henry  J.  Anderson,  and 
Hamilton  Fish.  In  its  preliminary  report,  it  recom- 
mended the  immediate  removal  of  the  College  from  the 
site  in  Park  Place  and  endorsed  in  principle  the  estab- 
lishment of  a  university  system  in  addition  to  the  under- 
graduate course.  The  Rev.  Dr.  John  Knox  was  added  to 
the  committee  in  1854.  It  is  interesting  to  remember 
that  the  work  of  the  committee  was  carried  on  through 
a  period  of  the  bitterest  controversy  regarding  a  certain 
professorial  appointment,  so  heated  that  it  was  impos- 
sible for  the  College  to  celebrate  its  one-hundredth  anni- 
versary in  1854. 

Another  element  was  the  growing  consciousness  of 
New  York  that  she  was  becoming  a  metropolitan  city.  It 
was  too  early  to  expect  this  consciousness  to  appear  in 
individual  gifts,  but  a  good  example  of  the  widespread 
interest  in  the  work  of  the  College  was  shown  by  the 
offer  of  Peter  Cooper  to  permit  the  so-called  university 
courses  to  be  held  at  Cooper  Union.  Finally,  one  must 
not  forget  the  changing  intellectual  spirit  of  the  time. 
As  Mr.  Low  has  pointed  out,  the  American  college  in 
its  beginning  was  simply  an  English  college  transplanted 
to  American  soil.    It  trained  many  forceful  and  effective 


THE  OLD  COLLEGE  5 

men,  but  it  did  not  make  many  scholars.  By  1857,  how- 
ever, there  were  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  men  in 
America  who  had  received  training  in  German  universi- 
ties, and  their  influence  was  beginning  to  be  felt.  "West 
Point,  too,  was  at  the  height  of  its  influence,  and  the 
thoroughness  and  efficiency  of  its  teaching  is  constantly 
referred  to  in  the  report. 

Before  taking  up  in  detail  the  work  of  this  commit- 
tee, it  may  be  well  to  consider  for  a  moment  just  what 
it  had  to  work  upon.  Columbia  College,  in  spite  of 
small  numbers  and  its  almost  wholly  local  appeal  at  the 
time,  had  an  honored  and  historic  tradition.  The  broad 
basis  of  religious  toleration  in  its  original  charter  was 
doubtless  due  to  controversy  and  resulting  compromise 
at  the  time,  but,  none  the  less,  the  charter  is  one  of  the 
most  interesting  and  significant  documents  of  the  eight- 
eenth century  in  America.  The  College,  too,  had  never 
wholly  forgotten  the  prophetic  vision  of  its  first  presi- 
dent, Samuel  Johnson.  The  high  proportion  of  the 
alumni  who  had  achieved  national  distinction  is  another 
factor  not  to  be  overlooked.  In  the  *  *  History  of  Colum- 
bia University,"  Dean  Van  Amringe  has  given  a  most 
impressive  summary  of  these  men  and  their  accomplish- 
ments. 

Although  the  number  of  students  had  remained  at 
about  one  hundred  and  fifty  from  1820  until  almost  1856, 
and  although  its  make-up  was  almost  wholly  local, 
Columbia  College  was  not  without  very  considerable 
prestige,  particularly  so  far  as  instruction  in  the  classics 
went.  It  was  generally  recognized  as  representing  a 
higher  type  of  instruction  in  this  field  than  did  the  New 
England  colleges.  The  College  was,  however,  hardly 
more  than  what  we  would  to-day  call  a  high  school. 
Indeed,  it  was  founded  originally  on  the  model  of  Eton, 


6  THE  BACKGROUND 

rather  than  of  Oxford.  The  students  were  young,  aver- 
aging, as  we  learn  from  the  report  of  the  committee, 
almost  two  years  less  than  at  Princeton.  The  type  of 
instruction  was  elementary,  four  weeks  of  each  year  be- 
ing given  over  to  review.  The  energies  of  the  teachers 
were  devoted  in  large  part  to  matters  of  minute  disci- 
pline. There  was  practically  no  scientific  equipment, 
and  the  library,  though  better  than  the  average,  was 
but  little  used.  President  King 's  published  views  on  the 
**  evils  which  must  result  from  desultory  reading  " 
seem  to  have  expressed  the  general  point  of  view  of  the 
faculty. 

Except  for  a  grammar  school  which  was  soon  to  pass 
to  other  hands,  instruction  was  given  only  ia  the  under- 
graduate classical  course,  wholly  prescribed.  The  pioneer 
medical  school,  founded  in  King's  College,  had  parted 
company  from  Columbia  forty  years  before,  and  the  in- 
termittent lectures  in  law,  historically  famous  as  the 
groundwork  of  Kent's  Commentaries,  were  no  longer 
given. 

The  committee  went  about  its  work  in  a  thorough  man- 
ner. Each  member  of  the  College  staff,  including  the 
president,  gave  extended  testimony  before  the  commit- 
tee, and,  although  it  is  clear  that  perhaps  the  majority 
were  in  a  rut,  two  men  at  least  were  able  to  give  advice 
of  real  significance — one  of  the  elders,  Anthon,  and  the 
youngest  member  of  the  faculty,  McCulloh.  In  addi- 
tion, the  committee  obtained  the  testimony  of  a  dozen 
representative  educators  from  outside,  including  Pro- 
fessor Lieber  of  the  University  of  South  Carolina,  who 
made  so  strong  an  impression  that  he  was  shortly  called 
to  Columbia,  President  Francis  Wayland  of  Brown,  Pro- 
fessor Bartlett  of  "West  Point,  whose  advice  was  admira- 
ble. President  Mark  Hopkins  of  Williams,  Chancellor 


INQUIEY  BY  TRUSTEES'  COMMITTEE        7 

Tappan  of  Michigan,  and  Bishop  Horatio  Potter.  The 
members  of  the  committee  also  visited  other  institutions. 
The  report  with  the  testimony  makes  a  volume  of  seven 
hundred  pages  of  most  interesting  reading.  It  must  not 
be  forgotten  that  the  committee  was  originally  one  on  the 
college  course  and  that  much  of  its  work  had  to  do  with 
the  details  of  collegiate  instruction,  and,  unfortunately, 
of  student  discipline.  The  misdemeanors  of  under- 
graduates are  given  in  delightful  detail,  including,  for 
example,  the  expulsion  of  an  undergraduate  (who  has 
since  worthily  represented  the  United  States  at  the 
Hague  Peace  Conference)  for  throwing  shot  about  the 
classroom.  Fortunately,  the  culprit  was  reinstated. 
Other  offenders  later  served  their  Alma  Mater  as  trus- 
tees. From  the  outsiders,  the  committee  perhaps  got 
more  advice  than  they  bargained  for.  Francis  Way- 
land,  for  instance,  who  writes  "  as  an  elder  soldier,  not 
a  better,"  tells  them  frankly  that  they  have  too  great 
confidence  in  the  efiScacy  of  laws  for  the  government  of 
a  college.  Wayland,  indeed,  saw  more  clearly  perhaps 
than  any  of  those  concerned  in  this  movement  the  ulti- 
mate destiny  of  Columbia.  In  closing  his  testimony,  he 
writes :  * '  When  I  think  of  your  position,  I  tremble  at  the 
responsibility  which  rests  upon  you.  You  have  a  noble 
field  before  you,  the  noblest  probably  now  on  earth." 
And  this  was  written  about  a  college  of  one  hundred  and 
fifty  disorderly  boys. 

In  spite  of  the  extraordinary  broad-mindedness  of  this 
committee  of  the  trustees,  shown  both  by  their  manner 
of  gaining  information,  and  by  the  report  which  they 
finally  presented,  curious  examples  of  narrowness  crop 
out  here  and  there.  The  fact,  for  example,  that  three 
of  the  professors  *  *  wrote  books  ' '  is  solemnly  noted  as  a 
possible  cause  of  educational  inefficiency.    The  members 


8  THE  BACKGROUND 

were  greatly  concerned  with  matters  of  student  order 
and,  in  spite  of  "Wayland's  warning,  were  busy  devising 
methods  to  enforce  it  by  law.  They  had  an  almost  pa- 
thetic trust  in  the  efficacy  of  text-books,  even  for  gradu- 
ate instruction,  and  needed  a  sharp  reminder  from  Chan- 
cellor Tappan  that  such  a  thing  as  academic  freedom  was 
either  possible  or  desirable. 

On  November  27,  1858,  the  committee  presented  its 
report.  It  was  evident  from  the  adoption  of  the 
Statutes,  which  put  the  report  into  actual  effect,  that  the 
trustees  realized  two  things:  first,  that  their  responsi- 
bility was  far  greater  than  their  operations  at  that  time 
would  meet;  and  second,  that  what  they  were  destined 
to  do  must  come  by  growth,  not  by  creation.  They  knew 
that  the  demand  for  higher  instruction  must  be  created, 
and  created  primarily  by  the  appointment  of  teachers 
of  the  highest  type. 

One  example  of  the  new  spirit  is  shown  by  a 
resolution  authorizing  an  appropriation  of  $200  **  to 
test  the  advantage  of  instructing  the  students  of  the 
College  in  Chemistry  with  the  aid  of  experiments  and 
manipulation  performed  by  the  students  themselves  un- 
der the  direction  and  superintendence  of  the  professor. ' ' 
This  sum  given  in  1856  was  of  more  significance  than 
the  present  annual  appropriation  for  chemistry,  although 
the  latter  is  more  than  five  hundred  times  as  large. 

An  essential  feature  of  the  scheme  was  the  calling  of 
visiting  professors  of  distinction  to  give  "  university  " 
lectures.  That  the  men  and  their  subjects  were  wisely 
chosen  needs  no  further  proof  than  the  fact  that  Marsh 's 
**  History  of  the  English  Language  "  and  Guyot's 
"  Earth  and  Man  "  were  based  upon  lectures  given 
at  Columbia  at  this  time.  Although  the  plan  was 
not   practically   successful   and   was   soon   abandoned, 


LAW  AND  MINES  9 

its  interest  to  us  is  not  merely  as  a  forecast  of 
the  elaborate  system  of  exchange  professorships  in 
operation  to-day,  but  it  had  an  immediately  prac- 
tical result  in  the  calling  of  two  of  the  visitors  to 
chairs  at  Columbia — Lieber  and  Dwight.  Lieber,  with 
Naime,  Davies,  and  Peck,  who  were  appointed  during 
the  same  period  of  hopeful  expansion,  immensely  broad- 
ened the  intellectual  horizon  of  the  College.  The  ap- 
pointment of  Dwight  was  even  more  significant,  for  with 
it  began  what  President  Barnard  called  the  period  of  the 
professional  school.  It  must  be  remembered,  as  Pro- 
fessor Lee  has  pointed  out,  that  the  beginnings  of  pro- 
fessional education  in  America  are  found  not  within 
institutions  of  learning,  but  in  the  familiar  personal 
association  of  the  students  with  men  in  active  practice. 
When  in  1858  the  trustees  appointed  Dwight  as  pro- 
fessor of  law,  it  was  not  their  intention  to  establish  a 
professional  school.  They  soon  came  to  the  conclusion, 
however,  that  success  was  more  likely  should  the  work 
be  organized  with  a  view  to  actual  admission  to  the 
Bar.  The  prompt  success  of  the  Law  School  and  its 
rapid  growth  were  without  parallel  in  the  contempo- 
rary history  of  professional  education.  Although  the 
Columbia  Law  School  had  about  eighteen  predecessors, 
it  had,  by  the  third  year  of  its  existence,  taken  the  lead 
in  numbers  and  prestige.  Its  success  was  wholly  due 
to  the  extraordinary  teaching  ability  of  Professor 
Dwight.  For  more  than  twenty  years  he  gave  all  the 
instruction  to  candidates  for  a  degree  in  law.  The 
Law  School,  however,  was  not  to  stand  alone.  As  a 
result  of  the  new  attitude  of  the  trustees,  the  College  of 
Physicians  and  Surgeons  was  in  1860  brought  back  to 
Columbia.  The  School  retained  its  independence,  and 
indeed  the  alliance  with  the  College  was  but  a  tenuous 


10  THE  BACKGROUND 

one;  still  the  fact  that  it  was  made  at  all  is  of  signifi- 
cance. In  1863,  during  the  period  of  depression  and 
uncertainty  caused  by  the  Civil  War,  an  even  more 
important  step  was  taken.  Thomas  Egleston  was  the 
spokesman  of  a  group  of  men  who  desired  to  establish 
a  School  of  Mines  in  America,  and  a  formal  communica- 
tion from  him  was  considered  by  the  trustees  in  April, 
1863.  At  that  time,  there  were  but  six  schools  of  applied 
science  in  the  United  States,  including  Annapolis  and 
West  Point,  and  there  was  no  training  in  mining  engi- 
neering. In  view  of  the  financial  stringency  caused  by 
the  war,  the  trustees  felt  that  they  could  offer  merely 
a  habitation  on  the  Columbia  campus,  but  this  was 
enough  for  Egleston  and  his  colleagues — General  Vin- 
ton, who,  like  Egleston,  had  been  a  student  at  the  Paris 
Ecole  des  Mines,  and  Charles  F.  Chandler,  a  graduate 
of  Gottingen  and  at  the  time  a  professor  in  Union 
College,  then  perhaps  the  most  progressive  of  American 
institutions.  They  received  the  cordial  co-operation  of 
the  professors  of  science  who  were  already  members  of 
the  College,  and  three  years  after  its  foundation  Pro- 
fessor John  S.  Newberry,  the  distinguished  geologist, 
came  to  the  School.  Like  the  Law  School,  the  new  School 
of  Mines  gained  prompt  success,  and  its  influence  on 
the  institution  as  a  whole  was  even  more  marked  be- 
cause of  the  larger  number  of  men  who  were  drawn 
into  the  academic  family,  and  the  immediate  influence 
of  their  ideas  upon  the  instruction  of  the  institution  as 
a  whole. 

One  important  feature  of  the  Statutes  of  1858  was  the 
splitting  off  of  the  senior  year  from  the  rest  of  the 
college  program,  and  the  establishment  of  specialized 
work  for  seniors.  Although  this  was  abandoned  three 
years  later,  it  laid  the  foundation  for  the  characteristic 


PRESIDENT   BARNARD  11 

Columbia  policy  of  the  combined  collegiate  and  advanced 
or  professional  course. 

When  one  considers  the  things  which  the  report  of 
1858  failed  to  accomplish,  one  must  remember  several 
factors.  Even  if  the  Civil  War  had  not  broken  out, 
the  trustees'  plans  would  probably  have  proved  in 
advance  of  the  times.  We  must  remember  that  Johns 
Hopkins  was  not  founded  until  nearly  twenty  years 
later,  that  no  well-organized  graduate  instruction  was 
given  anywhere  in  the  United  States  until  in  1861  at 
Yale,  and  that  Harvard  conferred  her  first  degree  of 
doctor  of  philosophy  in  1873.  The  university  plan  failed 
not  because  of  intrinsic  defects,  but  because  it  was  put 
into  operation  two  decades  before  the  American  public 
was  ready  for  it.  President  Barnard  himself  realized  that 
the  scheme  as  proposed  was  too  abrupt  and  too  large,  and 
too  much  in  advance  of  the  public  sense  of  the  educational 
wants  of  the  day,  and  that  its  practical  significance  lay 
in  the  establishment  of  the  Schools  of  Law  and  Mines. 

It  is  indeed  characteristically  American  that  the  path 
of  progress  and  development  at  Columbia  was  not  di- 
rectly through  pure  science  but  through  the  applied  sci- 
ences. Someone  has  said  that  the  only  things  we  have 
to-day  that  our  ancestors  had  not  are  more  complete 
knowledge  of  the  laws  of  nature  and  more  willingness  to 
apply  them,  and  that  the  willingness  to  apply  usually  pre- 
cedes the  desire  for  knowledge. 

In  this  connection  it  is  interesting  to  remember 
that  many  of  Columbia's  most  distinguished  investi- 
gators in  pure  science  received  such  formal  training  as 
they  got  in  schools  of  applied  science.  For  example, 
Bard,  Mitchill,  Hosack,  Anderson,  Torrey,  Newberry 
were  all  graduates  of  medical  schools.  Woodward,  Brit- 
ton,  Kemp,  and  others  were  trained  as  engineers. 


12  THE  BACKGROUND 

Not  the  least  significant  evidence  of  the  renascence 
of  1857  was  the  type  of  man  selected  to  succeed  Presi- 
dent King  upon  his  retirement  in  1864.  Curiously 
enough,  Frederick  A.  P.  Barnard,  a  former  chancellor 
of  the  University  of  Mississippi,  had  been  a  candidate 
for  the  professorship  of  physics  at  Columbia  the  year 
before,  but  was  unsuccessful,  the  appointment  going  to 
Professor  Rood.  At  the  time  of  his  appointment  as 
president,  Barnard  was  no  longer  a  young  man.  He 
had  indeed  been  a  schoolmate  of  Mark  Hopkins.  He 
was  older  when  he  began  his  incumbency  than  was  Seth 
Low  when  he  ended  his  to  become  mayor  of  the  city  of 
New  York.  Barnard,  nevertheless,  was  young  enough 
in  spirit  for  his  task.  It  is  hard,  says  Professor  Mun- 
roe  Smith,  to  rate  too  highly  the  prompt  courage  with 
which  he  adopted  the  university  policy,  or  the  stub- 
born faith  with  which  he  predicted  its  ultimate  triumph. 

Dean  Van  Amringe  describes  Barnard  as  "  a  man  of 
extensive  and  profound  knowledge  of  many  fields,  an 
exact  scientist  and  an  elegant  classical  scholar,  a  poet, 
a  musician  of  no  mean  quality,  of  strong  imagination  and 
enthusiastic  temper,  long  a  student  of  education  in  all 
its  aspects,  with  a  deep  and  growing  sense  of  the  in- 
adequacy of  educational  opportunities  and  methods,  with 
a  prophet 's  vision  of  the  coming  exactions  of  the  future 
and  of  the  way  to  meet  them;  bold  in  the  statement  of 
his  views,  persistent  and  eloquent  in  their  advocacy,  and 
incapable  of  discouragement.*' 

We  have  to  look  back  to  Samuel  Johnson  to  find  a 
president  who  had  the  same  buoyant  confidence  in  the 
future.  Barnard  foresaw  the  destiny  of  Columbia,  al- 
though he  realized  that  it  would  not  come  in  his  own 
day.  In  spite  of  very  scant  encouragement,  he  held  the 
noses   of   the    trustees   to    the    fundamental    problems 


THE  REPORTS  13 

which  he  realized  must  be  solved  before  Columbia 
could  become  a  university.  He  urged  from  the  first  that 
her  need  '  *  must  be  measured  not  by  the  presumed  inter- 
ests of  a  limited  and  narrow  sphere,  but  by  the  urgent 
ones  of  a  bold  community ;  that,  in  so  far  as  New  York 
comes  to  college,  it  in  a  most  effectual  manner  helps 
itself."  He  attributed  the  absence  of  private  munifi- 
cence, rightly,  to  lack  of  enterprise  on  the  part  of  the 
trustees.  *'  While  the  funds  entrusted  to  us  are  not 
given  us  to  waste,"  he  told  them,  **  so  neither  are  they 
given  us  to  hoard." 

To  one  who  never  had  the  opportunity  of  knowing 
Barnard  personally,  the  man  lives  and  grows  in  his 
reports.  In  the  words  of  the  present  Barnard  Professor 
of  Education,  Dean  Russell,  these  reports  during  the 
twenty-four  years  of  his  presidency  **  are  unexcelled 
in  the  literature  of  American  education.  No  current 
problem  escaped  Barnard's  attention  and  every  prob- 
lem that  he  discussed  was  thereafter  the  easier  of  solu- 
tion, because  of  his  comprehensive  view  and  convincing 
argument."  Buried  amongst  trivial  details  as  to  the 
text-books  used  by  freshmen  and  sophomores  are  found 
utterances  of  real  prophetic  import.  No  one  who 
reads  the  reports  of  1881-83  would  realize  that  in 
Barnard's  first  report  there  is  a  warning  against  the 
'*  recent  and  very  plausible  theory  of  Darwin."  Such 
development  would  be  remarkable  in  any  man,  but  is 
marvelous  in  a  man  who  wrote  these  great  reports  after 
he  had  passed  threescore  years  and  ten. 

Let  me  give  the  list  of  some  of  the  topics  considered 
by  Barnard  in  his  1881  report,  written  at  the  age  of 
seventy-two : 

The  entrance  age  of  college  students. 

The  effect  of  voluntary  classes  upon  scholarship. 


14  THE  BACKGEOUND 

Discipline  and  student  self-government. 

The  imperfection  of  preparatory  instruction  and  a 
mode  of  improving  conditions. 

(Education  as  a  science,  and  the  establishment  of  a 
special  chair  and  a  department  in  this  field. 

The  degree  of  master  of  arts  in  course. 

The  higher  education  of  women  and  the  recommenda- 
tion that  women  be  admitted  to  Columbia  College, 

Special  report  on  the  several  schools  of  the  University. 

His  work  for  Columbia  was  too  many-sided  to  be 
readily  summarised,  but  it  falls  perhaps  into  the  follow- 
ing groups:  (1)  The  modernizing  of  the  curriculum 
of  the  undergraduate  college,  and  of  its  administra- 
tion. (2)  The  establishment  of  graduate  study  upon  a 
permanent  basis.  (3)  The  development  of  the  several 
professional  schools  of  the  University.  (4)  The 
movement  for  the  professional  study  of  education.  (5) 
The  campaign  for  the  higher  education  of  women. 

Barnard  kept  a  jealous  eye  on  what  was  happening 
elsewhere  and  found  why  it  was  happening.  He  was 
perhaps  the  first  American  educator  to  use  the  statistical 
method  so  common  to-day  to  clear  up  problems  on  which 
he  was  in  doubt,  and  to  prove  his  point  in  argument. 
He  watched  closely  the  striking  success  of  Cornell  from 
its  very  foundation  to  see  what  lesson  it  could  teach 
the  older  colleges.  He  perceived  that  Harvard  was  out- 
stripping his  own  Alma  Mater,  Yale,  in  numbers,  and 
analyzed  the  reasons  for  the  benefit  of  Columbia.  He 
attributed  Harvard's  growth  to  the  elective  system, 
which  by  the  way  he  had  himself  advocated  before  it 
was  adopted  at  Cambridge,  and  annually  furnished  the 
Columbia  trustees  with  illuminating  details,  showing 
the  growth  of  Harvard  at  the  expense  of  her  sister  insti- 
tutions in  the  East.    As  rapidly  as  the  faculty  and  the 


COLLEGE  STUDIES  AND  DISCIPLINE      15 

trustees  would  permit  it,  he  introduced  the  elective 
system  at  Columbia,  on  the  ground  that  under  the  old 
fixed  curriculum  the  American  college  had  for  a  quarter 
of  a  century  been  endeavoring  to  accomplish  what  it 
could  not  perform.  Finding  no  reliable  statistics  as  to 
student  enrollment  throughout  the  country,  he  labori- 
ously built  them  up  for  himself  from  the  original  sources 
and  printed  the  results.  These  showed  clearly  a  drop- 
ping off  in  college  attendance,  proportionately  to  the 
population,  and  Barnard  closed  his  study  with  these 
characteristic  words :  "  As  the  truth,  which  time  silently 
discloses,  even  though  unwelcome  must  be  recognized 
and  distinctly  uttered  sooner  or  later  by  somebody,  it  has 
fallen  to  the  undersigned  in  this  case  to  be  the  inter- 
preter of  events  which  he  accepts  as  he  finds  them,  but 
which  he  would  not  be  understood  to  contemplate  with 
entire  satisfaction  or  even  without  some  serious  con- 
cern." 

He  entered  each  of  his  multifarious  campaigns  exhil- 
arated by  the  joy  of  what  Professor  Trent  has  called  the 
only  rational  form  of  aggressive  combat — that  for  ideals 
against  prejudices — and  he  found,  I  may  say  in  passing, 
enough  prejudices  to  keep  him  in  a  state  of  continual 
exhilaration. 

In  his  advocacy  of  the  elective  system,  Barnard  was 
influenced  perhaps  primarily  by  the  fact  that  **  the 
adoption  of  a  liberal  system  of  elective  study  prepares 
a  college  to  rise  naturally  and  easily  to  the  higher  level 
of  post-graduate  instruction."  He  saw  that  "it  is 
probably  only  by  some  gradual  transformation  of  exist- 
ing institutions  that  we  shall  in  this  country  ever  be  able 
to  realize  the  ideal  of  a  continental  university."  But 
he  also  believed  in  an  elective  system  for  the  sake  of  the 
undergraduates.     In  his  judgment,  by  the  age  of  say 


16  THE  BACKGROUND 

eighteen,  the  mind  has  normally  taken  its  set  and  the 
area  of  diminishing  returns  has  been  reached  with  re- 
gard to  disciplinary  training  in  uncongenial  subjects. 
The  actual  beginning  of  an  elective  system  in  Barnard's 
time  was  made  when  the  class  of  1870,  of  which  Seth 
Low  was  a  member,  made  formal  application  for  elective 
privileges  in  the  senior  year,  as  a  result  of  which  some 
slight  provision  was  made  by  the  trustees.  As  soon 
as  the  elective  policy  made  it  possible  for  the  students 
to  take  advantage  of  it,  Barnard  established  work  in  new 
fields.  Professor  Brander  Matthews,  who  was  a  member 
of  the  class  of  1871,  tells  that  in  his  day  there  was  no 
provision  for  instruction  in  the  language  or  literature 
of  France,  practically  no  history,  and  but  one  hour  a 
week  of  political  economy.  Barnard  succeeded  in  get- 
ting good  provision  in  the  modern  languages  and  in  the 
field  of  political  science.  He  pleaded  also  for  oppor- 
tunities in  biology,  which  were  not  provided  until  the 
administration  of  his  successor,  and  also  for  the  estab- 
lishment of  an  adequate  department  of  the  fine  arts, 
which  unfortunately  is  not  yet  accomplished. 

Barnard  realized  that  the  colleges  continued  to  recog- 
nize their  assumed  obligations  as  responsible  guardians 
of  students'  morals,  although  one  by  one  they  had  re- 
linquished the  instrumentalities  by  which  alone  they  had 
been  enabled  to  discharge  them.  He  pointed  out  the 
folly  of  expecting  that,  when  the  system  of  physical 
restraint  and  immediate  supervision  had  been  abandoned, 
the  same  end  could  be  secured  by  means  of  written  laws 
providing  claims  and  penalties  for  specified  offenses.  He 
showed  the  serious  danger  that  lay  in  the  existence  of 
a  body  of  unenforced  and  unenforceable  statutory  en- 
actments. 

At  Columbia,  Barnard  found  an  elaborate,  artificial, 


ADVANCED   WORK  17 

and  ineffectual  system  of  student  rating,  which  he  broke 
down  as  promptly  as  he  could.  "Wherever  possible,  he 
cut  ruthlessly  through  obsolete  and  useless  machinery 
which  had  persisted  from  the  days  when  the  College  was 
really  a  preparatory  school;  for  he  realized  that  then, 
as  now,  the  great  body  of  young  men  in  college  are 
really  interested  in  study,  and  that  for  this  majority 
elaborate  machinery  to  make  them  study  is  wasteful  and 
foolish.  Owing  to  the  fact  that  at  the  start  the  trus- 
tees did  not  feel  themselves  responsible  for  the  School 
of  Mines,  no  elaborate  system  of  rules  for  students  was 
devised  for  this  school.  The  president  was  prompt  to 
point  out  that  the  students  got  on  just  as  well  without 
them,  and,  using  the  new  school  as  an  example,  he 
brought  about  some  relief  from  the  burden  of  regula- 
tions previously  endured  by  the  college  students  in  arts. 

In  1881,  he  considered  and  advocated  the  develop- 
ment of  student  self-government,  pointing  out  the  stu- 
dents' evident  ability  to  manage  efficiently  their  own 
voluntary  undertakings.  From  what  alumni  of  his  day 
have  told  me,  Barnard  was  easily  deceived  in  the  matter 
of  student  disorder;  the  service  which  he  rendered  in 
giving  the  serious  students  a  sense  of  responsibility  and 
academic  dignity,  however,  cannot  be  regarded  as  unim- 
portant, and  some  of  them,  at  any  rate,  were  made  to 
realize  the  folly  of  a  system  of  ethics  which  regards 
serious  offenses  as  trivial,  merely  because  performed  by 
college  students. 

He  endeavored  to  interest  the  parents  of  students  in 
the  academic  progress  of  their  sons,  a  discouraging  but 
not  a  hopeless  undertaking.  He  tried  to  systematize  and 
make  more  logical  the  business  of  getting  students  into 
the  college.  In  one  of  his  reports  he  proposed  some- 
thing very  like  the  present  College  Entrance  Examina- 


18  THE  BACKGROUND 

tion  Board.  He  realized  the  importance  of  faculty 
guidance  in  the  matter  of  elective  studies  and  also  the 
importance  of  getting  information  from  the  teachers  in 
preparatory  schools  regarding  the  students  coming  to 
the  College.  These  two  matters  are  now  part  of  the  regu- 
lar machinery  of  Columbia  College,  in  the  work  of  the 
student's  academic  advisers,  and  of  the  University  Com- 
mittee on  Admissions. 

Throughout  the  whole  institution  Barnard  endeavored 
to  make  it  clear  that  the  ambition  of  students  and  teach- 
ers should  be  the  mastery  of  subjects  rather  than  of 
books.  For  the  private  work  and  growth  of  professors, 
he  urged  the  need  of  separate  studies  for  all  members 
of  the  teaching  staff. 

In  making  provision  for  the  beginning  of  graduate, 
or  as  he  called  it,  university  instruction,  Barnard  was 
not  deterred  by  the  necessity  of  small  beginnings.  *  *  The 
university  system,"  he  wrote,  "  is  destined  to  estab- 
lish itself  in  our  country.  It  will  be  the  outgrowth  of 
our  existing  college  system.  Our  universities  will  be 
evolutions  and  not  new  creations.  They  will  be  formed 
by  the  expansion  of  the  system  of  post-graduate  instruc- 
tion. Few  colleges,  however,  are  likely  to  become  uni- 
versities. Columbia  College,  through  her  financial 
strength  and  her  position  in  New  York,  will  be  among 
those  few.  The  time  has  come  when  she  should  begin 
to  address  herself  to  the  duties  which  touch  a  prospective 
destiny  and  the  responsibility  involved."  "  Limitation 
of  knowledge  is  not, ' '  he  says  elsewhere, ' '  like  deficiency 
of  food,  attended  by  a  craving  for  a  larger  supply.  It 
is  characteristic  of  ignorance  to  be  content  not  to  know, 
and  of  partial  information,  to  be  puffed  up  with  the 
conceit  that  there  is  little  more  to  be  known.  .  .  .  The 
fact  regarding  the  higher  education  is  not  that  the  de- 


PROFESSIONAL  COURSES  19 

mand  creates  the  supply,  but  that  the  supply  determines 
the  demand." 

To  those  who  questioned  the  wisdom  of  adding  to  the 
offering  of  the  institution  in  view  of  the  existing  respon- 
sibilities to  undergraduate  students,  he  replied  that,  just 
in  proportion  as  provision  is  made  by  any  educational 
institution  for  the  wants  of  students  of  superior  grade, 
in  the  same  proportion  its  attractiveness  is  increased  for 
those  of  the  inferior  grade. 

Barnard  had  called  the  period  in  Columbia's  history 
up  to  1857  the  gymnasial  period,  that  from  1858  to  1880 
the  period  of  the  professional  school,  and  that  from  then 
on  the  university  or  graduate  period. 

Although,  in  1872,  Barnard  had  succeeded  in  getting 
the  trustees  to  make  provision  for  fellowships,  with  the 
privilege  to  the  incumbent  of  studying  abroad,  he  had 
to  wait  until  1880  for  the  next  important  step,  the  estab- 
lishment of  the  School  of  Political  Science.  Professor 
John  W.  Burgess  had  been  called,  in  1876,  to  the  chair 
of  history  and  political  science  from  Amherst  College. 
It  had  been  expected  that  his  work  would  be  made 
available  for  the  students  of  the  Law  School,  and  it  was 
the  failure  of  this  hope  which  really  brought  about  the 
establishment  of  a  separate  school  four  years  later,  with 
Professor  Burgess  at  its  head,  and  four  other  members 
of  the  teaching  staff,  all  having  been  trained  in  Ger- 
many. At  first  the  number  of  students  drawn  from 
outside  Columbia  College  was  very  small,  practically 
limited  to  disciples  of  Professor  Burgess  from  Amherst, 
but  it  was  this  small  beginning  which  laid  the  founda- 
tion for  the  present  graduate  enrollment  of  over  two 
thousand  students. 

One  may  here  contrast  the  conditions  under  which 
the  School  of  Political  Science  was  established  with  the 


20  THE  BACKGROUND 

unsuccessful  movement  of  1858.  In  the  earlier  experi- 
ment the  lecturers  were  made  dependent  upon  the  fees  of 
students,  and  the  lectures  were  thrown  open  to  the  public 
without  examination.  In  the  later,  instruction  was  given 
only  by  teachers  on  regular  salary  and  only  to  college- 
bred  men.  It  was,  as  Professor  Munroe  Smith  has  said, 
on  this  narrower  but  more  solid  ground  that  the  Colum- 
bia graduate  schools  have  grown  slowly  but  steadily 
to  their  present  strength. 

The  system  of  graduate  instruction  was  rounded  out 
by  the  establishment  at  the  same  time  of  a  so-called 
graduate  department,  which  meant  practically  that  the 
more  ambitious  professors  in  other  fields  than  that  of 
political  science  might  offer  advanced  work  in  addition 
to  their  stated  collegiate  duties.  Some  graduate  work 
in  pure  and  applied  science  had  already  developed  un- 
der the  professors  in  the  School  of  Mines,  and,  as  a  mat- 
ter of  fact,  the  degree  of  doctor  of  philosophy  was  first 
conferred  at  Columbia  in  that  school. 

Barnard  was  one  of  the  first  to  observe  the  develop- 
ment of  various  callings  into  new  professions  and  to 
perceive  the  relation  that  this  fact  bears  to  collegiate 
and  university  instruction.  He  foresaw  the  coming  need 
of  vocational  training  and  endeavored  to  make  Colum- 
bia ready  to  meet  it.  Throughout  his  presidency,  he 
consistently  urged  the  raising  of  the  standards  of  ad- 
mission to  professional  study.  With  the  Law  School 
he  could  do  little,  for  Professor  Dwight's  commanding 
prestige,  and  indeed  certain  formal  resolutions  of  the 
trustees,  made  him  practically  independent  of  the  presi- 
dent. He  did  succeed  in  getting  some  provision  made 
for  entrance  tests.  So  far  as  the  course  itself  went,  it 
should  be  said  he  was  entirely  in  sympathy  with  Pro- 
fessor Dwight's  plan  of  organization  and  referred  to 


PROFESSIONAL  COURSES  21 

the  school  as  an  example  of  "  the  most  extraordinary 
success  ever  achieved  in  this  country  or  any  other. ' ' 

He  saw  the  crying  need  of  improvement  in  medical 
education,  but  under  the  existing  arrangement — it  will 
be  remembered  that  the  College  of  Physicians  and 
Surgeons  was  at  that  time  educationally  and  financially 
independent  of  Columbia — he  was  powerless  to  do  any- 
thing toward  its  accomplishment. 

The  prompt  success  of  the  School  of  Mines,  however, 
was  due  in  no  small  measure  to  Barnard's  enthusiastic 
support.  He  was  himself  a  devoted  and  accomplished 
man  of  science  and  the  first  college  president  to  be  a 
member  of  the  National  Academy  of  Sciences.  To-day, 
more  than  twenty  years  after  his  death,  he  still  forms 
a  link  between  the  University  and  the  Academy, 
through  the  conditions  of  award  of  the  Barnard  Medal 
for  meritorious  service  to  science.  He  entered  eagerly 
into  the  aspirations  of  Egleston,  Chandler,  and  Vinton. 
Although  before  his  becoming  president  the  trustees 
had  been  unwilling  to  undergo  any  financial  obligations 
for  the  aid  of  the  new  school,  he  succeeded  in  persuad- 
ing them  to  borrow  more  than  $100,000  for  the  purpose 
and  to  erect  a  building  for  the  school  to  replace  the 
abandoned  deaf  and  dumb  asylum  where,  strangely 
enough,  he  himself  had  taught  a  quarter  of  a  century 
before.  Barnard  was  greatly  interested  in  the  plan  for 
practical  instruction  in  mining,  which  originated  at 
Columbia  in  1877,  and  in  the  organization  of  profes- 
sional courses  in  civil  and  electrical  engineering.  It 
was  under  the  School  of  Mines  also  that  the  department 
of  architecture  came  into  being.  The  establishment  at 
Columbia  of  work  in  architecture  was  primarily  the  re- 
sult of  the  devoted  interest  of  one  of  the  younger 
members  of  the  board  of  trustees,  Mr.  F.  Augustus 


22  THE  BACKGROUND 

Schermerhorn,  and  it  was  auspiciously  undertaken  in 
1881  by  the  appointment  of  Professor  William  R.  Ware, 
who  had  previously  founded  at  the  Massachusetts  Insti- 
tute the  first  American  school  of  architecture.  Through- 
out Professor  Ware's  long  career,  he  emphasized  the 
idea  that  architecture  is  not  simply  a  craft  to  be  learned 
through  apprenticeship,  nor  a  branch  of  engineering 
to  be  taught  in  a  scientific  school,  but  an  art  to  be 
taught  in  an  environment  primarily  artistic. 

One  of  the  resolutions  adopted  by  the  trustees  in 
1858  looked  forward  to  the  establishment  of  a  chair  of 
the  science  and  art  of  education.  No  appointment, 
however,  was  made  and  twenty-three  years  later  Bar- 
nard could  say,  as  he  did  in  1881,  that  "  Education  is 
nowhere  treated  as  a  science  and  nowhere  is  there  an 
attempt  to  expound  its  true  philosophy, ' '  In  his  report 
of  this  year  he  devoted  thirty  pages  to  this  topic,  ad- 
vocating particularly  a  chair  of  the  history,  theory, 
and  practice  of  education.  "  In  doing  this  we  should, 
for  a  third  time,  have  taken  a  new  departure,  and  a 
step  in  advance  of  all  our  contemporaries  and  com- 
petitors. We  have  created  the  first  and  only  success- 
ful School  of  Mines  upon  the  continent;  and  we  have 
established  the  only  school  in  which  a  young  man  can 
obtain  such  a  training  as  may  properly  fit  him  for  the 
duties  of  political  life.  If  into  a  great  national  indus- 
try which  has  heretofore  been  prosecuted  by  ignorant 
and  wasteful  methods  we  have  introduced  economy  and 
intelligence,  and  if  in  a  public  service  which  has  been 
worse  than  ignorant  and  wasteful  we  have,  by  the  in- 
strumentalities we  have  created,  laid  the  foundation  for 
a  coming  substantial  reform,  we  have  in  neither  of  these 
ways  done  more  to  advance  the  welfare  of  our  own  peo- 
ple, or  to  benefit  the  world,  than  we  shall  have  done 


ADMISSION  OF  WOMEN  23 

when  we  shall  have  made  it  possible  that  those  to  whose 
hands  is  to  be  entrusted  the  education  of  each  rising 
generation  shall  be  themselves  properly  educated  to  their 
own  responsible  profession."  It  was  the  impression 
made  by  this  report  upon  the  mind  of  a  young  under- 
graduate then  in  Columbia  College  which  brought  about, 
a  few  years  later,  the  organization  of  Teachers  College 
under  the  presidency  of  Nicholas  Murray  Butler.  So 
many  of  Barnard's  long  cherished  desires  and  hopes 
found  no  realization  until  after  his  death  that  it  is 
pleasant  to  remember  that  he  was  spared  to  see  at  least 
the  modest  beginning  of  what  has  gro\\'Ti  into  the  great 
Teachers  College  of  to-day. 

In  1879,  Barnard  raised  with  the  trustees  the  ques- 
tion as  to  whether  the  advantages  of  Columbia  College 
should  not  be  opened  to  young  women  as  well  as  to 
young  men.  It  was  a  brave  utterance  at  a  time  when 
the  East  was  thundering  against  the  inexplicable  devel- 
opment of  collegiate  coeducation  west  of  the  Alleghany 
Mountains.  This  was  the  beginning  of  a  long  campaign 
of  education  for  the  city  of  New  York,  and  indeed  for 
the  whole  eastern  part  of  the  count^5^  Barnard  was 
keen  enough  to  make  it  clear  that,  if  the  opponents  of 
the  higher  education  of  women  proved  anything,  they 
proved  that  young  women  should  not  be  educated  at  all. 
With  his  characteristic  optimism  he  wrote : 

*  *  Whatever  may  be  the  fate  of  the  present  suggestion, 
the  undersigned  cannot  permit  himself  to  doubt  that 
the  time  will  yet  come  when  the  propriety  and  wisdom 
of  this  measure  will  be  fully  recognized ;  and,  as  he  be- 
lieves that  Columbia  College  is  destined  in  the  coming 
centuries  to  become  so  comprehensive  in  the  scope  of 
her  teaching  as  to  be  able  to  furnish  to  all  inquirers 
after  truth  the  instruction  they  may  desire  in  whatever 
branch  of  human  knowledge,  he  believes  also  that  she 


24  THE  BACKGROUND 

will  become  so  catholic  in  her  liberality  as  to  open  widely 
her  doors  to  all  inquirers  without  distinction  either  of 
class  or  of  sex. " 

In  his  next  report  he  continued  the  attack,  using  this 
time  the  example  of  Cambridge  University  in  England. 
In  1881,  he  reminded  the  trustees  that  the  admission  of 
women  **  being  in  the  direction  of  manifest  destiny, 
to  accept  it  promptly  would  be  a  graceful  act ;  while  to 
lag  behind  the  spirit  of  the  age  would  be  only  to  be 
coerced  after  all  into  accepting  it  at  last,  ungrace- 
fully." 

The  best  that  Barnard  could  get  from  the  trustees  was 
a  resolution,  adopted  in  1883,  "  that  this  Board  deem 
it  expedient  to  institute  measures  for  raising  the  stand- 
ard of  female  education  by  proposing  courses  of  study 
to  be  pursued  outside  the  College,  but  under  the  ob- 
servation of  its  authorities  and  oifering  suitable  aca- 
demic honors  and  distinction  to  any  who,  on  examination, 
shall  be  found  to  have  pursued  such  courses  of  study 
with  success." 

It  was  not  veiy  promising;  in  fact,  it  has  been  said 
that  the  resulting  collegiate  course  for  women  had  more 
than  the  remoteness  of  the  modern  correspondence  school, 
without  any  of  its  special  efficiency.  Those  who  were 
interested  were,  however,  too  wise  to  let  slip  the  advan- 
tage of  any  hold  upon  the  rapidly  expanding  institution. 
Although,  as  Barnard  pointed  out,  the  course  offered 
no  permanent  solution  to  the  problem  which  he  had 
raised,  it  maintained  a  languishing  existence  for  many 
years.  Indeed,  when  I  entered  Columbia  as  a  freshman, 
in  1894,  there  was  one  woman  still  on  the  books  as  a 
candidate  for  the  bachelor's  degree.  It  was  jfinally  abol- 
ished in  the  following  year.  The  real  solution  of  the 
problem  was,  of  course,  the  establishment  of  the  College 


BARNARD'S  PERSONALITY  AND  MEMORY  25 

which  bears  Barnard's  name,  and  its  definite  incorpora- 
tion, more  than  a  decade  after  his  death,  into  the  edu- 
cational system  of  Columbia  University.  The  story  of 
Barnard  College  will  be  told  in  another  chapter. 

There  is  something  pathetic  in  the  fact  that,  during 
the  years  when  Barnard  was  making  history  for  the 
institution  he  served,  he  received  very  little  recognition 
from  those  about  him.  Indeed,  it  was  not  until  after 
his  death  that  his  importance  was  realized.  Although 
an  impressive  man  in  appearance,  his  deafness  cut  him  off 
in  large  degree.  He  seemed  to  lack  totally  the  minor 
qualities  of  administrative  efficiency,  and  during  the 
later  years  of  his  life  the  treasurer  of  the  College  over- 
shadowed him  in  matters  of  administration  and  the  pro- 
fessors dealt  directly  with  their  friends  among  the  trus- 
tees, in  all  university  projects,  rather  than  through  the 
president.  Nor  did  his  impression  on  the  public  outside 
seem  to  be  any  stronger.  During  his  administration 
only  one  important  gift  was  made  to  the  College,  the 
bequest  of  an  alumnus,  Stephen  Whitney  Phoenix.  The 
gift  of  the  Vanderbilt  family  to  the  Medical  School  came 
also  during  his  time,  but  was  a  result  of  the  activity 
of  the  president  of  the  College  of  Physicians  and 
Surgeons,  the  late  Dr.  McLane. 

"  Barnard  possessed,  with  such  men  as  Gladstone  and 
Bismarck  (it  is  a  very  rare  quality),  the  fervor  in 
age  that  he  had  in  youth.  He  was  as  ready  as  he 
was  before  he  had  secured  position  and  fame  to  take 
up  a  new  idea,  a  new  project,  and  pursue  it  with  as 
much  vigor  as  if  a  long  life  were  still  before  him  and 
all  his  reputation  were  still  before  him  yet  to  make." 
The  burden  of  years  and  infirmities  was  weighing, 
however,  even  upon  his  buoyant  spirit,  and,  although  he 
carried  on  his  duties  almost  to  the  full  fourscore  years, 


26  THE  BACKGROUND 

the  last  year  or  so  were  certainly  full  not  only  of  labor 
but  of  sorrow.  The  parts  of  the  institution  with  which 
he  was  particularly  concerned — the  graduate  work,  the 
School  of  Mines,  and  the  College — had  failed  to  grow  as 
he  had  hoped.  Indeed,  toward  the  end  he  had  about 
concluded  that  it  would  be  advisable  to  give  up  the 
struggle  of  maintaining  a  first-class  undergraduate  col- 
lege, under  the  conditions  confronting  him  in  New  York 
City. 

He  retired  from  active  service  at  the  close  of  the  aca- 
demic year  of  1888  and  died  in  the  following  spring, 
April  27. 

During  the  closing  years  of  his  life  Barnard 's  reputa- 
tion seemed  to  be  that  of  a  very  deaf  and  rather  fussy 
old  gentleman  who  never  kept  copies  of  his  letters,  and 
with  whom  for  this  and  other  reasons  it  was  most  diffi- 
cult to  do  business;  but  as  time  goes  on  his  figure 
looms  higher  and  higher  and  he  has  now  a  firm  place 
in  the  little  group  of  men  without  whom  education  in 
the  United  States,  whatever  it  might  have  been,  would 
not  be  what  it  is  to-day.  In  this  group  he  takes  his 
place  with  Thomas  Jefferson,  President  Wayland  of 
Brown,  President  Eliot  of  Harvard,  and  Commissioner 
Harris  of  the  United  States  Bureau  of  Education.  Bar- 
nard's voice  indeed  seemed  to  be  that  of  one  crying  in 
the  wilderness,  but  there  were  fortunately  some  few  who 
heard  and  hearkened,  most  notably  the  present  president 
of  Columbia  University. 

It  was  characteristic  of  Barnard  and  of  his  devoted 
wife,  who  soon  followed  him,  that  they  should  leave  their 
entire  estate  to  the  college  they  had  loved.  This  made 
possible  the  establishment  of  the  Barnard  Medal,  already 
mentioned,  and  of  the  Barnard  fund  for  the  increase  of 
the  library,  an  interest  which  the  limitations  of  space 


BARNARD'S  PERSONALITY  AND  MEMORY  27 

have  made  it  impossible  for  me  to  dwell  upon.  In  1904, 
in  Barnard's  honor,  the  title  of  the  chair  held  by  the 
dean  of  Teachers  College  was  changed  to  the  Barnard 
Professorship  of  Education. 

Barnard  College  was  founded  and  named  just  before 
his  death.  May  it  always  maintain  the  fine  spirit  of 
devotion  and  optimism  which  it  now  possesses  and  which 
makes  the  institution  a  peculiarly  fitting  memorial  to  the 
great  president. 


II 

THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  TO-DAY;  ITS  ORGANIZA- 
TION AND  AIMS 

Recent  Accomplishments.  Previous  Uncertainty.  The  Univer- 
sity Party.  Appointment  of  Seth  Low.  The  New  Order  and  its 
Fruits.  Continuity  of  Policy.  Significant  Contributions.  Growth 
by  Treaty.  Educational  Unity.  The  University  Council.  Stand- 
ardization and  Progress.  College  Admission  and  Advancement. 
Professional  Study.  The  Combined  Course.  Plan  of  Organization. 
Trustees.    President.    Other  Officers.    Administrative  StaflF. 

How  recently,  but  how  fully,  Columbia  has  come  to 
be  recognized  as  worthy  of  her  metropolitan  home  may 
be  read  in  the  concluding  chapter  of  Dr.  E.  E.  Slos- 
son 's  * '  Great  American  Universities  ":  "  Two  decades 
ago  Columbia  was  a  small  college  with  three  loosely 
attached  professional  schools,  crowded  in  old  buildings 
downtown,  and  regarded  by  the  outside  world  as  local, 
sectarian,  and  unpromising.  Now  it  is  metropolitan  and 
cosmopolitan,  and,  if  it  continues  to  progress  as  it  has 
in  recent  years,  it  is  likely  to  take  a  position  among  the 
universities  of  the  country  similar  to  that  of  New  York 
among  the  cities."  That  these  changes  have  not  come 
about  without  growing  pains,  and  even  more  serious 
academic  maladies,  has  been  indicated  in  the  introductory 
chapter;  that  the  net  results  constitute  a  significant 
chapter  in  the  history  of  education,  not  only  of  the  nation 
but  of  the  world,  needs  no  demonstration. 

At  Columbia  in  the  late  eighties,  to  quote  one 
of  the  professors  then  in  service,  "  there  existed  a 
state  of  things  which  is  difficult  to  describe.  There 
was    no    feeling    of    purpose,    no    agreement    as    to 

38 


APPOINTMENT  OF  SETH  LOW  29 

what  was  best  for  the  future,  no  common  interest  in 
what  was  happening  in  the  present.  A  prevailing  un- 
rest, a  clash  of  opinion,  and  on  every  side  a  belief  that 
everything  went  by  chance  or  perhaps  sometimes  by 
favor — ^these  were  a  few  of  the  obstacles  to  good  feeling 
and  to  harmonious  eifort.  Then  came  Mr.  Low,  and  or- 
der was  evolved  from  chaos.  Regarding  it  all  in  a  spirit 
of  detachment,  which  would  have  been  next  to  impossi- 
ble for  anyone  else,  his  fitting  and  perfect  sense  of 
justice  and  fair-mindedness,  which  is  so  very  rare, 
inspired  everyone  from  the  very  first  with  confidence 
and  loyalty.  It  was  felt  instinctively  that  the  right  thing 
would  be  done,  that  every  interest  would  be  considered, 
and  every  question  viewed  without  the  slightest  preju- 
dice, and  it  was  because  of  this  assurance  that  the  trans- 
formation of  a  small  college  into  a  big  university  was 
effected  so  smoothly,  so  completely,  and  so  successfully 
as  to  render  possible  the  achievement  of  the  present 
splendid  promise  for  its  future." 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  initial  steps  toward  university 
organization  were  taken  before  the  election  of  President 
Low  in  1889.  A  majority,  indeed,  both  of  faculty  and 
trustees  were  at  that  time  opposed  to  change  or  even  to 
growth.  The  faculty  point  of  view  was  frankly  expressed 
as  regards  salaries  by  the  wife  of  one  of  the  older  pro- 
fessors to  the  effect  that,  if  the  divisor  be  increased  while 
the  dividend  remains  fixed,  the  quotient  necessarily  will 
be  diminished.  One  of  the  prominent  trustees  of  the  pe- 
riod said  authoritatively  that  Columbia  never  asked  aid  of 
anybody  and  was  not  anxious  to  receive  any,  lest  it  might 
give  the  donor  a  claim  to  interfere  with  the  management 
of  its  affairs.  The  center  of  the  university  party,  as 
it  was  called,  was  the  small  compact  faculty  of  political 
science,  with  the  support  of  Nicholas  Murray  Butler, 


30  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  TO-DAY 

then  adjunct  professor,  and  the  warden  of  the  Law 
School,  Professor  Dwight.  It  was  this  group  of  men 
that  persuaded  the  trustees  of  the  need  for  establishing 
a  faculty  of  philosophy  for  advanced  work  and  for  a 
central  university  senate.  The  initiative  for  the  third 
crucial  project,  the  reorganization  of  the  Law  School, 
came  from  one  of  the  trustees,  Mr.  Stephen  P.  Nash.  It 
is  pathetic  to  remember  that,  though  Barnard  was  the 
real  spiritual  leader  of  the  whole  movement,  none  of  the 
detailed  steps  were  taken  through  him.  For  him,  ex- 
pansion was  of  supreme  interest;  problems  of  organiza- 
tion had  little  attraction  and  the  progressive  professors 
went  directly  to  the  progressive  trustees  with  their 
plans. 

The  decisive  step  was  indeed  taken  in  the  choice  of  a 
successor  to  President  Barnard.  That  step  and  the  other 
fundamental  advances  toward  university  organization 
have  fortunately  been  recently  described  by  Professor 
John  W.  Burgess,  to  whom,  in  President  Butler's 
acknowledgment,  "  we  owe  more  than  to  anyone  else 
the  form  of  our  University,  who  proposed  it  more  than 
thirty  years  ago  and  with  patient  skill,  determination, 
and  statesmanship  has  ever  since  helped  to  work  it  out, 
first  in  one  faculty  and  then  in  another."  In  Professor 
Burgess's  "  Reminiscences  "  we  read  that  it  was  now 
felt  by  all  who  comprehended  the  situation  clearly  that 
everything  hung  upon  the  choice  of  the  new  president : 

"  On  account  of  the  sharp  dissensions  in  the  teach- 
ing body,  it  was  not  possible  to  take  any  member 
of  either  faculty  for  the  presidency,  and  it  was  even 
impracticable  to  ask  the  advice  of  any  of  them  upon  this 
all-important  question.  The  trustees  were  thrown  en- 
tirely upon  themselves  in  making  their  selection.  They 
very  wisely  determined  to  confer  the  great  office  upon 


THE  NEW  ORDER  AND  ITS  FRUITS         31 

one  of  their  own  number  and  acted  just  as  wisely  in 
choosing  that  one.  Mr.  Low  was  not,  in  the  first  place, 
a  profound  scholar,  though  not  lacking  in  broad  learn- 
ing and  intellectual  sympathy.  In  this  there  was  great 
advantage,  an  advantage  which  Mr.  Low  himself  con- 
sciously appreciated.  It  was  this  very  thing  which 
enabled  him  to  see  that  each  professor  could  manage 
the  internal  affairs  of  his  department  better  than  the 
president  could  do  it  for  him.  The  professors  were  quick 
to  comprehend  the  president's  estimate  of  them  and  to 
manifest,  as  a  consequence  of  it,  a  new  enthusiasm  in 
their  work.  This  alone  was  a  mighty  step  forward  from 
the  school  to  the  university.  On  the  other  hand,  Mr. 
Low  was  a  real  man  of  affairs.  He  had  been  partner  in 
a  great  business  and  mayor  of  a  great  city.  He  was  a 
man  of  high  social  standing,  of  extended  acquaintance, 
and  of  large  wealth.  He  knew  how  to  organize  and  ad- 
minister, how  to  frame  a  budget,  how  to  provide  ways 
and  means,  how  to  take  advantage  of  all  the  existing 
auxiliaries  offered  by  existing  institutions  in  the  great 
city,  how  to  bring  the  University  to  the  notice  of  the 
city,  the  nation,  and  the  world,  how  to  interest  men  of 
power  and  wealth  in  it,  and,  above  all,  how  to  secure  for 
the  chairs  of  instruction  men  of  ability  and  marked 
distinction  in  their  several  departments.  President  Low 
emphasized  at  all  times  and  on  all  occasions  the  propo- 
sition that  a  great  university  is,  in  essence,  a  body  of 
great  investigators  and  teachers.  In  all  of  the  necessary 
work  of  organization  and  amid  all  of  the  details  of 
administration  to  which  he  was  compelled  by  the  situa- 
tion to  give  extraordinary  attention,  he  kept  the  great 
purpose  constantly  before  him  of  bringing  to  Columbia 
such  a  body  of  men;  and  his  success,  in  this  respect, 
equaled  his  determination.  The  careful  and  wise  selec- 
tions which  he  advised  and  procured  in  strengthening 
and  recruiting  the  existing  faculties  and  in  contributing 
new  faculties  gave  to  the  University  that  strong  scien- 
tific groundwork  upon  which  it  has  since  then  so  securely 
rested.  These  were  all  great  qualities,  qualities  abso- 
lutely necessary  for  the  development  of  Columbia  at 
that  stage  of  its  history. ' ' 


32  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  TO-DAY 

The  three  long  conferences  about  university  organi- 
zation following  Mr.  Low's  taking  up  his  work,  were 
held  in  the  old  President's  House  on  Forty-ninth  Street. 
The  party  of  progress,  though  in  a  strong  minority,  was 
well  organized,  and  divided  among  its  members  the  dif- 
ferent aspects  of  the  problem  to  be  brought  forward.  It 
had,  furthermore,  the  intelligence  not  to  press  forward 
too  rapidly.  As  a  result,  this  party  won  a  complete  vic- 
tory and  placed  an  impress  on  the  organization  of  the 
institution  which  is  still  clearly  borne. 

The  first  outward  and  visible  sign  of  the  new  order 
of  things  was  a  provision  that  students  should  matricu- 
late simply  in  the  University,  paying  a  single  fee,  and 
that  thereafter  they  should  enjoy  the  facilities  offered  by 
every  faculty.  In  Mr.  Low's  phrase,  Columbia  at  one 
stroke  ceased  to  be  divided  into  fragments  and  took  upon 
herself  the  aspect  of  a  university,  where  each  depart- 
ment was  related  to  the  other  and  every  one  strengthened 
all.  In  this  and  other  ways  an  elasticity  was  given  to 
the  organization  which  it  had  previously  lacked  almost 
wholly,  and  this  fact  had  its  share  in  the  infusion  of  a 
spirit  of  buoyancy  and  a  sense  of  team  play.  No  one  can 
read  the  records  of  twenty  years  ago  without  getting  a 
realizing  sense  that  the  old  institution  had  at  last  found 
herself  and  was  a  living  entity.  In  particular,  an  ar- 
ticle written  by  Professor  Brander  Matthews  in  Har- 
per's Weekly  during  1892  gives  a  fine  picture  of  the 
spirit  of  enthusiastic  optimism  in  which  Columbia  was 
preparing  herself  for  the  great  advances  she  was  about 
to  make. 

The  teaching  staff  was  strengthened  to  an  amazing 
degree,  both  qualitatively  and  quantitatively.  It  does 
not  detract  from  the  credit  due  to  Mr.  Low  to  point  out 
that  in  this  respect  he  had  an  extraordinary  opportunity. 


Columbia  at  Forty-ninth  Street 


CONTINUITY  OF  POLICY  33 

In  the  first  place,  the  income  had  been  considerably  in- 
creased through  the  expiration  of  leases  and  their  re- 
newal at  an  increased  rental.  When  the  trustees  were 
in  doubt  as  to  the  propriety  of  applying  University  funds 
to  some  new  fields,  it  should  be  added,  Mr.  Low,  in  not 
a  few  instances,  supplied  the  funds  from  his  own  pocket 
until  the  experiment  was  a  proved  success.  Secondly, 
Columbia  was  at  the  moment  almost  alone  in  the  mar- 
ket. There  was  no  similar  period  of  growth  elsewhere 
in  the  eastern  United  States,  and  the  State  universities 
were  not  yet  the  successful  bidders  for  men  of  perform- 
ance and  promise  that  they  have  since  become.  Last  but 
not  least,  the  home  ranks  were  not  filled  with  juniors 
of  respectable  but  not  brilliant  attainments,  who  would, 
if  they  had  been  on  hand,  in  all  probability  have  stepped 
into  the  new  places. 

As  a  result  of  all  these  facts,  but  most  of  all  as  a 
result  of  the  admirable  judgment  of  Mr.  Low  and  his 
advisers,  a  group  of  men  was  called  to  Columbia  during 
his  administration,  which,  in  addition  to  the  men  already 
in  service,  did  more  than  the  administrative  and  educa- 
tional reorganization,  or  the  new  buildings,  to  bring 
Columbia  into  the  front  rank  of  American  universities. 
Time  has  removed  all  but  five  of  the  professors  of  Bar- 
nard's day  from  teaching  service,  and  the  men  appointed 
under  Low  form  the  backbone  of  the  University. 

The  academic  world  at  large  soon  came  to  know  of  the 
new  order  of  things  by  its  fruits, — groups  of  young  doc- 
tors of  philosophy  who  are  to-day  in  positions  of  leader- 
ship all  over  the  country,  and  scholarly  publications  of 
importance  in  many  different  fields  from  both  teachers 
and  advanced  students. 

The  eleven  years  of  Mr.  Low's  presidency  witnessed 
in   all   its   many   steps   one   of   the   most  remarkable 


34  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  TO-DAY 

changes  in  physical  habitat  in  the  history  of  any  insti- 
tution of  learning.  The  important  influence  of  this 
physical  change  upon  the  educational  prestige  of  the 
University  need  not  be  emphasized.  In  all  this  move- 
ment the  president  not  only  gave  the  most  devoted  at- 
tention to  every  complex  detail  of  removal  and  con- 
struction, but  he  was  the  leader  in  the  campaign  for 
that  outside  assistance  which  made  the  plan  possible. 
Finally,  he  crowned  his  service  by  the  gift  of  a  magnifi- 
cent library  building  as  a  memorial  to  his  father,  Abiel 
Abbot  Low.  This  building  has  taken  its  place  among 
the  small  group  of  examples  of  really  great  architecture 
in  America. 

From  the  day  when  Mr.  Low  found  himself  firmly  in 
the  saddle  until  the  present,  there  has  been  no  sharp 
break  in  the  development  of  the  institution  such  as  came 
with  his  election,  not  even  at  the  time  of  his  retirement 
in  1901  to  become  mayor  of  New  York  City,  and  the 
election  of  Professor  Butler  as  his  successor.  New  ele- 
ments have  indeed  entered;  older  ones  have  developed, 
or  perhaps  in  some  cases  regressed,  but  the  stamp  was 
set  at  that  time  and  has  not  been  changed"  in  any  funda- 
mental particular.  The  distinction  has  been  made  that 
President  Low  brought  a  group  of  loosely  organized 
schools  into  administrative  unity ;  and  that  it  was  Presi- 
dent Butler's  task  to  bring  them  into  educational 
unity;  and  it  would  of  course  be  possible  to  point  to 
contrasts  in  emphasis  and  interpretation,  such  as  would 
naturally  arise  from  the  differences  between  two  vigor- 
ous and  strongly  marked  personalities.  The  differences, 
however,  are  less  significant  than  the  essential  unity  of 
the  two  administrations.  Unlike  Presidents  King  and 
Barnard,  both  men  were  graduates  of  Columbia  College, 
from  the  classes  of  1870  and  1882  respectively,  both  led 


GEOWTH  BY  TREATY  35 

in  study  and  undergraduate  life,  as  they  did  afterward 
as  alumni.  Even  before  1890,  the  younger  man  was  a 
leader  in  the  university  party,  and  he  was  President 
Low's  right-hand  man  and  trusted  adviser,  particularly 
in  matters  having  to  do  with  educational  theory  and 
practice.  The  ideals  and  the  accomplishments  of  both 
men  may  be  summed  up  in  the  eloquent  words  of  Dr. 
Butler's  oath  of  office,  taken  on  April  12,  1902: 

"•To  preserve,  protect,  and  foster  this  ancient  col- 
lege, established  for  the  education  and  instruction  of 
youth  in  the  liberal  arts  and  sciences;  to  maintain, 
strengthen,  and  uphold  this  noble  university;  to  obey 
its  statutes;  to  labor  unweariedly  for  its  advantage  and 
for  the  accomplishment  of  its  high  ideals;  to  promote 
its  efficiency  in  every  part,  that  it  may  widen  the 
boundaries  and  extend  the  application  of  human  knowl- 
edge and  contribute  increasingly  to  the  honor  and  wel- 
fare of  the  city,  state,  and  nation — I  pledge  my  strength 
and  whatever  abilities  God  has  given  me.  By  His  help 
I  will." 

Neither  president  would  wish  to  regard  the  happen- 
ings of  his  administration  as  primarily  personal  achieve- 
ment. *  *  Anyone, ' '  as  Dr.  Butler  has  said,  *  *  who  writes 
the  history  of  universities  in  the  terms  of  the  personal 
characteristics  or  the  accredited  achievements  of  their 
presidents  falls  far  short  of  the  real  truth.  The  incum- 
bency of  a  university  president  is  like  the  reign  of  a 
monarch  or  the  rule  of  a  president,  convenient  as  a 
standard  of  measurement,  but  it  is  the  men  of  letters, 
the  men  of  science,  the  men  of  vision,  the  men  of  ac- 
complishment who  are  remembered  in  that  administra- 
tion, who  give  to  it  meaning  and  form.  Just  so  we 
remember  Shakspere,  but  we  have  to  turn  to  the  encyclo- 
pedia to  find  in  whose  reign  he  lived. ' ' 


36  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  TO-DAY 

As  a  result  of  the  essential  unity  of  administration,  a 
minute  chronological  record  of  the  developments  since 
1890  is  not  necessary  to  obtain  an  understanding  of  the 
present  organization  and  equipment  of  the  University, 
nor  of  its  significant  contributions  to  the  problems  of 
higher  education.  Before  giving  what  at  the  best  must 
be  a  very  incomplete  description  of  so  complex  an  or- 
ganism as  Columbia  has  now  become,  it  may  be  well 
to  summarize  these  contributions. 

In  the  first  place,  Columbia  has  achieved  a  much  closer 
interrelation  between  its  different  parts  than  is  the  case 
in  most  of  the  great  universities  of  the  world.  This  has 
resulted  not  only  in  saving  useless  and  wasteful  dupli- 
cation, but  it  has  served  to  bring  to  each  of  its  many 
interests  the  stimulus  and  helpful  criticism  of  all  the 
others.  Perhaps  the  most  fundamental  devices  for  bring- 
ing about  this  unity  are  the  central  academic  senate, 
known  as  the  University  Council,  and  a  type  of  depart- 
mental organization  which  cuts  across  school  and  fac- 
ulty lines.  In  the  second  place,  there  has  been  a  con- 
scious effort  on  the  part  of  the  University  to  get  the 
most  from  the  community  at  large  and  in  return  to  give 
the  most  possible  to  it.  It  has  been  its  constant  aim  to 
develop  those  powers  and  opportunities  that  depend 
upon  mutual  co-operation,  and  no  institution  in  the 
country  has  advanced  so  far  as  has  Columbia  along  the 
lines  of  what  has  been  called  the  policy  of  growth  by 
treaty  with  other  independent  institutions.  This  policy 
has  the  great  advantage  of  preserving  the  initiative  and 
devotion  which  come  from  a  sense  of  independence  on 
the  part  of  the  smaller  organization  and  at  the  same 
time  conserving  a  general  unity  of  aim  and  economy 
of  effort  in  solving  the  problems  of  the  community. 

In  the  third  place,   Columbia  has  given  particular 


EDUCATIONAL  UNITY  37 

attention  to  the  relation  between  collegiate  and  profes- 
sional courses  with  a  view  to  ensuring  an  adequately 
high  standard  of  preparation  for  professional  study  with- 
out undue  waste  of  time  and  energy  on  the  part  of  the 
student.  The  so-called  combined  course,  which  permits 
the  undergraduate  student  to  begin  professional  study 
before  receiving  the  bachelor 's  degree  and  to  offer  toward 
that  degree  one  or,  in  some  cases,  two  years  of  profes- 
sional school  work,  a  plan  now  in  operation  directly  or 
indirectly  in  every  university  of  the  country,  was  de- 
vised and  tried  out  first  at  Columbia. 

In  the  fourth  place,  particular  attention  has  been  given 
to  what  is  now  becoming  known  in  industrial  organi- 
zations as  functional  administration.  The  essence  of  this 
policy  is  the  centering  of  responsibility  for  carrying  out 
any  adopted  policy  upon  carefully  selected  individu- 
als, who  are  expected  to  make  themselves  experts  in 
their  particular  field.  This  policy  has  come  rather  late 
into  university  administration,  but  it  is  now  throughout 
the  country  rapidly  supplanting  the  earlier  policy  of 
administration  by  faculty  committee. 

In  student  registration  Columbia  has  grown  from 
1,768  in  1889  to  9,379  in  1913.  Thirty-one  per  cent,  of 
the  latter  figure  is  made  up  from  registration  in  institu- 
tions which  have  since  1889  joined  the  University  system 
without  losing  their  own  independence  and  identity.  Not 
a  few  of  the  other  students  also,  particularly  those  in 
the  graduate  schools,  have  been  attracted  to  the  Uni- 
versity by  the  opportunities  which  its  alliance  with  the 
several  museums  and  other  scientific  organizations  of  the 
city  have  thrown  open  to  them. 

The  definite  absorption  of  the  hitherto  independent 
College  of  Physicians  and  Surgeons,  in  1891,  was  fol- 


38  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  TO-DAY 

lowed  by  the  incorporation  into  the  University  educa- 
tional system  of  Barnard  College  and  Teachers  College, 
the  Vanderbilt  Clinic  and  Sloane  Hospital,  and  by  alli- 
ances for  the  common  good  with  seven  theological  semi- 
naries, with  the  New  York  Botanical  Gardens,  the  Met- 
ropolitan Museum  of  Art,  Cooper  Union,  the  American 
Museum  of  Natural  History,  the  Zoological  Park  and 
Aquarium — a  record  probably  without  parallel. 

The  New  York  College  of  Pharmacy,  under  the  fol- 
lowing administration,  was  also  taken  into  the  educa- 
tional system  of  the  University.  A  close  alliance  has 
been  formed  with  the  New  York  School  of  Philanthropy, 
and  a  reciprocal  agreement  of  great  importance  to  the 
future  of  medical  education  has  been  arranged  between 
the  University  and  the  Presbyterian  Hospital.  Finally, 
international  agreements  as  to  visiting  professors 
have  been  made  with  Germany,  Holland,  France,  and 
Austria. 

The  most  significant  of  these  relations  and  those  touch- 
ing the  university  life  most  closely  are  the  ones  with 
Barnard  College  and  Teachers  College.  The  identifica- 
tion of  the  former  with  the  University  is  completer,  both 
because  Barnard  grew  up  under  the  wing  of  Columbia 
and  because  of  the  identity  of  interest  within  university 
departments,  but  in  each  case  the  alliance  is  close 
and  contains  elements  of  first  importance  in  our  uni- 
versity life.  Previous  to  1900  Barnard  had  been  under 
patronage  rather  than  in  alliance,  and  the  agreement  of 
1893  with  Teachers  College  had  been  neither  close  enough 
nor  organic  enough  to  accomplish  its  purpose.  Indeed, 
neither  institution  appeared  at  all  in  the  Columbia  cata- 
logue until  1897.  Their  present  relations  date  from 
1900,  the  agreements  of  that  year  having  since  been 
amended  only  in  detail.    These  provide  that  the  presi- 


THE  UNIVERSITY  COUNCIL  39 

dent  of  the  University  shall  be,  ex  officio,  president  of 
each.  He  presides  at  faculty  meetings  and  has  general 
supervision  and  direction  of  their  educational  adminis- 
tration, as  is  the  case  with  the  other  schools  of  the 
University.  The  internal  administration  of  each  is  con- 
ducted by  the  dean,  appointed  by  the  president,  by  and 
with  the  advice  and  consent  of  the  trustees  of  the  inde- 
pendent College,  which  during  the  life  of  the  agree- 
ment waives  the  right  to  confer  degrees.  The  students 
share  in  all  general  University  privileges,  as  for  example 
in  the  use  of  the  library,  and  the  faculties  share  in  the 
general  academic  responsibility  and  control  through  their 
representatives  upon  the  University  Council. 

Strengthening  the  letter  of  these  alliances  is  the  bond 
of  a  community  of  interest,  which  furnishes  frequent 
examples  of  what  are  unofficially  known  as  academic 
intermarriages.  For  example,  twenty-eight  members  of 
the  Barnard  College  faculty  sit  also  in  other  faculties 
of  the  University,  ten  men  whose  salaries  are  paid  by 
Teachers  College  are  in  the  faculty  of  philosophy,  three 
in  that  of  pure  science,  and  two  in  political  science. 
Between  the  University  faculty  and  the  seminaries, 
museums,  and  so  forth,  there  are  a  dozen  examples  of 
such  personal  alliances. 

"What  is  gained  and  what  is  lost  by  agreements  of  this 
character?  To  speak  first  of  the  latter,  it  must  be  con- 
fessed that  co-operation  does  not  always  work.  Yale  and 
Columbia  have  failed  to  do  what  they  had  hoped  for 
the  consular  service,  and  thus  far  the  agreement  with  the 
National  Academy  of  Design  appears  to  have  accom- 
plished less  than  nothing.  An  inevitable  tension,  fur- 
thermore, comes  at  times  with  separate  financial  re- 
sponsibility, and  the  relations  between  two  of  the  smaller 
independent  corporations  are  not  always  made  easier 


40  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  TO-DAY 

by  their  common  relation  to  the  University  Corporation. 
There  is,  undoubtedly,  a  monetary  loss  to  the  latter 
from  the  alliances,  because  so  many  overhead  charges 
are  borne  by  it  alone  and  the  balance  of  educational 
trade  is,  from  a  financial  point  of  view,  practically 
always  against  it.  There  are  those  who  say,  furthermore, 
on  the  principle  of  the  more  fishers  around  the  pond, 
the  fewer  fish  for  each,  that  many  of  the  splendid  gifts 
that  have  come  to  the  other  corporations  would  have 
otherwise  fallen  directly  into  the  University  coifers.  Even 
if  this  latter  were  true,  which  may  be  doubted,  the  gen- 
eral advantages  of  the  policy  far  outweigh  its  draw- 
backs. The  clear-cut  needs  and  independent  initiative 
of  the  smaller  independent  corporations  make  appeal 
for  aid  more  vivid  and  usually  more  successful.  It  is 
easier,  in  a  word,  to  get  something  in  particular  than 
something  in  general.  Since  the  University  makes  no 
attempt  to  dominate,  and  neither  patronizes  nor  pau- 
perizes, there  is  a  general  spirit  of  co-operation  in 
all  the  parts  of  the  complex  organism.  The  wealth  of 
opportunity  to  the  student  in  every  part  is  immensely 
increased.  To  give  but  a  single  example,  the  catalogue 
will  show  how  greatly  the  program  of  the  University  de- 
partment of  history  is  strengthened  by  professors  of 
church  history  from  Union  Theological  Seminary  who  sit 
in  the  faculty  of  political  science. 

It  is  almost  too  early  to  speak  of  the  relations  which 
bring  visiting  professors  to  us  from  across  the  Atlantic, 
but  there  is  no  doubt  as  to  the  profound  significance  of 
the  movement.  My  personal  hope  is  that  the  future  will 
bring  closer  relations,  and  in  particular  more  academic 
exchanges,  among  the  colleges  and  universities  of  the 
United  States,  a  subject  to  which  I  shall  return  in  the 
concluding  chapter  of  this  book.     The  success  of  the 


THE  UNIVERSITY  COUNCIL  41 

Columbia  policy  of  increase  of  opportunities  by  treaty 
seems  to  point  the  way  logically  to  such  a  development. 

President  Low's  first  task  was  to  create  a  center  for 
the  academic  mass,  for  he  did  not  feel  that  the  uni- 
versity, like  Pascal's  definition  of  the  universe,  could  be 
a  sphere  with  its  center  everywhere  and  its  surface  no- 
where. Professor  Burgess  had  long  advocated  an  aca- 
demic senate,  and  the  trustees  had  authorized  one  be- 
fore Mr.  Low's  election.  It  was,  when  organized  in 
1900,  hardly  more  than  a  president's  advisory  commit- 
tee, with  special  interest  in  the  organization  of  graduate 
work,  but  it  fulfilled  the  one  essential  condition  in  that 
it  was  felt  to  be  and  was  accepted  by  both  trustees  and 
professors  as  thoroughly  and  fairly  representative  of 
the  entire  institution.  Two  years  later,  definite  admin- 
istrative and  legislative  powers  were  assigned  to  the 
Council  and  the  Vniversiiy  Bulletin  reported  in  1892 
that  it ' '  has  now  become  a  legislative  body  for  the  whole 
institution,  subject  only  to  the  confirmation  of  the  trus- 
tees as  to  certain  matters.  The  teaching  force  itself 
is  now  for  the  first  time  in  a  position  to  shape  the  edu- 
cational policy  of  the  University  in  all  its  parts.  Colum- 
bia is  thus  nearing  the  practice  of  the  great  European 
universities."  As  a  matter  of  fact,  it  was  for  some 
years  little  more  than  an  upper  house  for  the  non- 
professional faculties.  Under  the  revision  of  the  Uni- 
versity statutes  in  1908,  which  marked  the  logical  com- 
pletion of  the  process  begun  in  1890,  the  Council  was 
reorganized,  its  constitutional  powers  greatly  enlarged, 
and  its  membership  increased,  the  representatives  elected 
from  the  several  faculties,  however,  still  being  in  the 
majority.  The  routine  matters,  practically  all  relating  to 
graduate  instruction  and  the  appointment  of  fellows, 


42  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  TO-DAY 

which  were  formerly  debated  in  the  Council  as  a  whole, 
are  now  cared  for  in  an  executive  committee.  The  Coun- 
cil can  thus  devote  adequate  attention  to  those  broader 
questions  which  concern  the  entire  University.  By  stat- 
ute it  is  directed  to  secure  the  correlation  of  courses  with 
a  view  to  increasing  the  efSciency  and  enlarging  the 
range  of  university  work,  to  encourage  original  research, 
and  to  adjust  all  questions  involving  more  than  one 
faculty ;  and  also  to  make  recommendations,  both  to  the 
trustees  and  to  the  several  faculties,  concerning  the  edu- 
cational administration  of  the  University,  and  to  advise 
the  president  upon  such  matters  as  he  may  bring  be- 
fore it. 

The  body  has  been  called,  by  one  of  my  colleagues 
(not  an  engineer),  the  mainspring  and  flywheel  of  the 
institution,  and  it  is  indeed  the  point  of  articulation  in 
educational  matters  between  the  representative  govern- 
ment of  the  faculties  and  the  centralized  administrative 
organization.  Like  many  another  constitutional  body 
of  essential  importance,  its  actual  proceedings  seem  fre- 
quently to  be  trivial  and  dull,  but  its  influence  lies 
not  so  much  in  what  it  actually  does  as  in  what  it  could 
do  should  occasion  arise. 

A  searching  of  the  University  heart  took  place  in 
1908-09,  under  the  probe  of  a  committee  appointed  by 
the  University  Council  at  the  request  of  the  trustees, 
to  consider  possible  changes  in  the  requirements  for 
admission  and  the  conditions  of  graduation  in  the  vari- 
ous professional  schools,  and  to  report,  also,  as  to  whether 
any  elective  or  optional  courses  offered  to  the  students 
might  be  discontinued  without  disadvantage  to  the  gen- 
eral educational  interests  of  the  University.  The  com- 
mittee took  its  duties  very  seriously  and  made  a  close 
study  of  the  conditions  throughout  the  University,  and 


STANDARDIZATION  AND  PROGRESS        43 

particularly  in  the  Schools  of  Law  and  Medicine,  and  the 
Graduate  Schools.  As  frequently  happens  in  such  cases, 
the  real  value  of  the  work,  which  was  very  great,  lay 
not  so  much  in  the  formal  report  to  the  University 
Council,  which  is  rather  a  vague  document,  but  in  the 
fact  that  the  investigation  had  been  made  in  such  a  way 
as  to  affect  the  judgment  not  only  of  its  own  members, 
but  also  of  all  the  more  serious  members  of  the  academic 
community.  In  this  way  its  effect  upon  the  public  opin- 
ion of  the  University  was  very  strong  and  is  still  felt.  ' 

Those  parts  of  the  University — such  as  the  Summer 
Session,  Extension  Teaching,  Journalism,  and  Agricul- 
ture— which  are  not  under  the  control  of  some  particu- 
lar faculty,  are  under  the  special  care  of  the  Council. 
Its  responsibility  is  also  great  in  the  case  of  the  relations 
between  the  University  Corporation  and  its  treaty  allies. 
To  quote  Professor  Munroe  Smith :  *  *  In  the  whole  pro- 
cess of  expansion  by  treaty,  the  University  Council  has 
proved  itself  an  instrument  of  great  value.  ...  It  is  not 
too  much  to  affirm  that  it  is  the  Council,  itself  a  new 
thing  in  university  government,  that  has  made  educa- 
tional federations  of  this  new  type  possible,  and  to  assert 
that  this  representative  council  will  so  largely  insure 
the  satisfactory  workings  of  these  federations  as  to  make 
them  permanent." 

For  the  future  the  Council  seems  destined  to  give 
more  and  more  study  to  the  rapidly  disappearing  fron- 
tiers that  were  once  so  clearly  marked  between  the  sev- 
eral departments  of  knowledge,  and  to  new  groupings  of 
subjects  needed  to  meet  new  public  demands  constantly 
arising. 

The  maintenance  of  what  we  regard  to-day  as  ade- 
quate standards  of  admission,  advancement,  and  gradua- 


44  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  TO-DAY 

tion  is  a  comparatively  recent  matter  in  America,  and 
this  is  particularly  true  as  regards  professional  study. 
The  first  entrance  requirements  for  the  School  of  Mines 
were  limited  to  elementary  algebra,  geometry,  and  trigo- 
nometry. It  was  not  until  1875  that  there  were  any 
entrance  examinations  at  all  for  the  Law  School.  The 
entire  course  in  medicine  was  not  so  long  ago  of  but  four 
months,  and  as  late  as  1888  its  entrance  standards  were 
advanced  to  the  requirement  of  elementary  English, 
Latin,  and  mathematics.  Those  in  the  Law  School  did 
not  reach  the  basis  of  high-school  graduation  until 
1893. 

The  amount  of  time  devoted  to  academic  work  was  un- 
til a  few  years  ago  very  modest.  Professor  Burgess,  when 
he  came  to  Columbia  in  1876,  found  that  "  the  School 
of  Arts  made  the  decided  impression  of  a  day  school  for 
the  sons  of  residents  of  New  York  who  came  rather 
Irregularly  to  the  exercises  at  about  ten  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  attended  recitations  until  about  one,  and  then 
went  home  again.  What  they  did  in  the  way  of  study 
during  the  afternoons  and  evenings  was  not  very  appar- 
ent in  their  recitations  of  the  following  day,  and,  as 
most  of  them  lived  with  their  parents,  it  would  have 
probably  been  regarded  as  an  impertinence  on  the  part 
of  their  teachers  to  have  inquired  more  nearly  into  this 
subject. ' ' 

Until  recently,  Saturday  was  a  dies  non  in  the 
academic  calendar.  In  1892,  the  beginning  of  the  day 's 
work  was  moved  forward  to  half-past  nine,  and  in 
1907  to  nine  o'clock.  To-day  certain  classes  begin  at 
eight  o'clock,  and  in  the  Summer  Session  this  is  re- 
garded as  rather  a  desirable  hour.  Work  now  continues 
until  ten  o'clock  at  night,  winter  and  summer.  The  es- 
tablishment of  summer  and  extension  courses  and  the 


COLLEGE  ADMISSION  AND  ADVANCEMENT    45 

fact  that  the  half  year  is  now  the  unit  of  administra- 
tion and  that  the  student  may  profitably  enter  in  Febru- 
ary as  well  as  in  September,  have  added  to  the  actual 
opportunities  which  Columbia  affords  no  less  than  have 
the  increases  in  staff  and  equipment. 

Perhaps  the  best  points  at  which  to  study  the  stand- 
ards of  an  American  university  are  the  relations  be- 
tween its  college  and  the  secondary  schools  and  between 
its  professional  and  advanced  work  and  its  college.  It 
must  be  emphasized  at  the  outset  that  standards  may  be 
unreasonably  high  as  well  as  unreasonably  low.  As 
Dr.  Slosson  has  pointed  out,  "  some  one  young  man  or 
woman  is  better  worth  educating  than  a  thousand  oth- 
ers, but  until  the  psychologists  have  become  successful 
enough  to  tell  us  in  advance  which  this  young  man  or 
woman  is,  it  is  best  to  throw  out  a  reasonably  wide  net 
with  a  fine  mesh."  It  must  also  be  remembered  that 
the  problem  is  greatly  complicated  by  what  is  gener- 
ally recognized  as  the  unfortunate  fact  that  for  the 
American  student  of  normal  ability  about  two  precious 
years  have  already  been  wasted  in  the  elementary  school 
period. 

The  present  Columbia  standards  for  entrance  may  be 
broadly  summarized  as  follows:  Admission  to  the  col- 
legiate courses,  Columbia  College  for  men  and  Barnard 
College  for  women,  is  so  administered  as  to  permit  the 
entrance  of  any  worthy  student  who  can  show,  by  ex- 
amination, the  preparation  of  a  good  secondary  school 
course  or  its  equivalent.  Once  admitted,  the  quality  of 
the  work  of  a  college  student,  quite  as  much  as  its 
quantity,  is  considered  in  advancing  for  graduation,  and 
under  the  operation  of  the  present  rules  many  students 
graduate  in  three  or  three  and  a  half  years.    Entrance 


46  THE  UNIVERSITY  OP  TO-DAY 

upon  professional  study  is  based  upon  more  than  a 
secondary  school  training,  but  is  not  unduly  delayed  by 
demanding  a  four-year  college  course  as  a  prerequisite. 

The  capable  student  should  be  able  to  complete 
the  requirements,  both  for  the  bachelor's  degree  and 
for  any  professional  degree,  in  six  years.  Courses 
of  higher  instruction  and  research  are  supposed  to  be  and 
in  general  are  open  only  to  those  who  have  had  a  col- 
lege degree  or  its  equivalent,  including  special  prepara- 
tion for  advanced  work  in  the  major  subject. 

Columbia  has  been  one  of  the  few  American  institu- 
tions to  adhere  to  the  plan  of  requiring  entrance  exami- 
nations for  admission  to  college.  Without  going  into 
a  discussion  as  to  the  relative  merits  of  the  certificate  and 
examination  system,  it  may  be  pointed  out  that  the  more 
or  less  satisfactory  working  of  the  certificate  system,  in 
the  Eastern  colleges  at  any  rate,  may  well  be  very  largely 
due  to  the  fact  that  certain  important  institutions  still 
maintain  the  old  examination  method  and  that  the  class- 
room work  in  the  school  must  provide  for  their  training 
and  testing  as  well  as  for  that  of  the  students  who  enter 
college  by  certificate.  For  nearly  twenty  years  the  Uni- 
versity has  been  endeavoring  to  render  the  examination 
system  as  effective  as  possible.  The  first  move  towards 
uniformity  of  entrance  tests  was  made  under  her  leader- 
ship in  1896.  Five  years  later  Columbia  was  instru- 
mental in  the  organization  of  the  College  Entrance  Ex- 
amination Board,  which  is  a  co-operative  effort  on  the 
part  of  colleges  and  schools  to  prepare  papers,  conduct 
examinations,  and  grade  the  results  in  the  best  manner 
possible.  The  number  of  students  using  its  examinations 
has  grown  from  less  than  one  thousand  in  1901  to  more 
than  four  thousand  in  1913.  A  further  fundamental 
step  was  taken  in  1909  when  the  undergraduate  admis- 


PROFESSIONAL   STUDY  47 

sions  committees  throughout  the  University  were  com- 
bined and  an  oflScer  of  professorial  standing  was  ap- 
pointed to  take  charge  of  the  whole  matter.  Under  his 
leadership  the  results  of  the  entrance  examinations  are 
studied  in  the  light  of  whatever  else  it  is  possible  to  find 
out  about  each  candidate,  through  personal  acquaintance 
and  particularly  through  reports  from  his  school  teach- 
ers as  to  the  details  of  his  preparation,  his  general 
intelligence,  maturity,  and  reliability. 

The  careful  personal  consideration  of  each  case  which 
it  is  possible  for  the  chairman  of  the  committee  on 
admissions  to  give  is  cumulative  in  its  effect  from  year 
to  year,  and  is,  it  is  believed,  steadily  building  up  an 
attitude  of  confidence  on  the  part  of  schools  and  parents. 
As  a  result,  the  committee  is  obtaining  a  kind  of  infor- 
mation about  candidates  for  admission  which  it  would 
be  extremely  difficult  to  elicit  by  any  type  of  formal 
examination. 

Within  the  undergraduate  colleges  the  last  decade 
has  witnessed  not  only  a  steady  advance  in  the  stated 
academic  requirements,  but,  what  is  always  more  im- 
portant, a  greater  thoroughness  in  their  administration. 
As  has  not  infrequently  been  the  ease  in  rapidly-growing 
institutions,  the  question  of  efficiency  in  teaching  had  not 
until  recently  received  due  attention,  but  at  present  this 
matter  is  receiving  careful  scrutiny.  Five  years  ago  the 
college  examinations  were  centralized,  and  they  are  now 
managed  more  uniformly  and  efficiently  than  was  pos- 
sible under  varying  professorial  standards.  Side  by 
side  with  this  greater  thoroughness  has  come  also 
greater  individual  attention  to  and  knowledge  of  each 
student,  so  that,  although  Columbia  must  admit  to  what 
the  cynic  has  called  a  policy  of  justice  tampered  with 
mercy  it  is  believed  that  the  tampering  is  accomplishing 


48  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  TO-DAY 

good  rather  than  harm.  The  Columbia  College  An^ 
nouncement  contains  the  following  paragraph:  "  In  the 
administration  of  the  college  regulations,  it  is  the  policy 
of  the  committee  on  instruction  and  of  the  dean  to  be 
guided  in  the  treatment  of  individual  cases  largely  upon 
the  recommendation  of  the  adviser,  and  by  the  general 
attitude  of  the  student  in  question  toward  the  College, 
i.e.,  whether  or  not  he  has  proved  himself  a  creditable 
member  of  the  college  community,  as  shown  by  regu- 
larity in  attendance,  promptness  in  the  fulfillment  of 
his  obligations,  earnestness  in  his  endeavor  to  profit  by 
his  college  opportunities,  both  direct  and  indirect,  and 
considerateness  of  others. ' ' 

The  second  crucial  point  in  the  maintenance  of  aca- 
demic standards  is  the  question  of  admission  to  profes- 
sional and  advanced  studies  and  particularly  the  rela- 
tions between  the  college  and  the  professional  school. 
The  incidental  suggestion  in  President  Butler's  first 
annual  report  of  1902,  that  the  degree  of  bachelor  of 
arts  might  well  be  awarded  after  two  years  of  college 
study,  created  so  much  alarm  in  the  academic  com- 
munity and  so  much  derision  in  the  public  press  that 
for  a  time  little  attention  was  paid  to  his  really  impor- 
tant study  of  this  double  question  of  the  length  of  the 
college  course  and  the  best  preparation  for  professional 
study.  What  Dr.  Butler  had  primarily  at  heart  was 
the  preservation  of  the  American  college,  which  he 
feared  would  disappear,  as  it  has  in  Germany,  between 
the  upgrowing  secondary  schools  and  the  downgrowing 
professional  schools;  he  feared  also  that  the  profes- 
sional schools  would  either  rest  upon  too  low  a  basis  of 
preparatory  training  or  be  exalted  to  an  artificially  high 
position.    In  his  judgment  the  earlier  part  of  the  pro- 


05 
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THE  COMBINED  COURSE  49 

fessional  courses  in  law,  medicine,  engineering,  and  the 
like  are  most  excellent  material  for  the  boy  of  nine- 
teen or  twenty.  For  him  to  postpone  his  professional 
course  later  than  this  is  not  only  to  waste  his  time,  but 
to  waste  his  mind,  which  is  far  worse.  It  was  Leonardo 
da  Vinci  who  said  that  just  as  food  eaten  without  appe- 
tite is  a  tedious  nourishment,  so  does  study  without 
zeal  damage  the  memory  by  not  assimilating  what  it 
absorbs. 

The  president  felt  that  the  combined  course  was  not  the 
best  solution  of  the  problem  and  that  a  uniform  collegiate 
course  of  three  years  (which,  by  the  way,  was  suggested 
as  early  as  1857  and  apparently  favored  by  Professors 
Anthon  and  Lieber)  would  prove  to  be  only  a  tempo- 
rary device.  Personally,  he  saw  no  objection  to  grant- 
ing the  bachelor's  degree  after  two  years  upon  what 
was  at  least  the  equivalent  of  the  accomplishment  de- 
manded for  that  degree  in  1860.  He  made  no  effort, 
however,  to  impose  his  individual  preferences  upon  his 
colleagues,  whose  opinions  upon  all  the  questions  in- 
volved were  obtained  and  carefully  collated  by  Pro- 
fessor Munroe  Smith.  His  admirable  summary  may  be 
found  in  the  Columbia  University  Quarterly  for  March, 
1903,  by  any  who  care  to  look  more  fully  into  this  whole 
matter.  The  proposal  to  award  the  bachelor's  degree 
upon  the  completion  of  a  two-year  course  was  disap- 
proved by  ninety  per  cent,  of  the  teaching  force,  and 
no  change  was  made  in  the  time  requirements  for  the 
degree,  this  particular  question  being  left  to  the  indi- 
vidual student,  who  has  solved  it  presumably  to  his 
individual  satisfaction.  Of  the  graduates  of  1913  in 
Columbia  College,  eighteen  students  graduated  in  three 
years,  twenty-one  in  more  than  three  but  less  than  four. 
A  dozen  took  more  than  four  years. 


50  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  TO-DAY 

In  the  spring  of  1904,  the  University  Council  recom- 
mended that  the  combined  courses  be  not  only  retained, 
but  should  be  developed  so  that,  after  the  completion 
of  a  two-year  collegiate  program,  the  candidate  for 
the  first  degree  should  be  permitted  to  complete  the  re- 
quirements for  that  degree  by  work  in  any  professional 
school  except  the  School  of  Law,  where  the  requirement 
was  already  three  years. 

This  idea  of  telescoping  the  college  into  the  uni- 
versity, as  President  Hadley  has  called  it,  was  a  dis- 
tinctly Columbia  product,  and  indeed  was  for  many 
years  known  as  the  Columbia  plan.  We  find  the  fore- 
runner of  the  combined  course  in  the  splitting  up  of  the 
senior  year  into  three  programs  in  1857,  although 
the  experiment  was  tried  for  but  three  years  at  that 
time.  It  is  due  to  Professor  Burgess  that  the  idea  was 
kept  to  the  fore  during  the  eighties,  and  Mr.  Low  made 
it  an  essential  part  of  his  policy  that  the  senior  year  of 
the  college  should  be  made  the  point  of  contact  between 
the  college  and  the  university.  So  far  as  professional 
study  goes,  it  was  first  used  in  connection  with  the  School 
of  Law  in  1891.  In  1896-97,  eleven  college  seniors  had 
elected  professional  options,  as  they  are  called,  as  fol- 
lows :  Law  six.  Engineering  two,  Architecture  two,  Medi- 
cine one.  In  1912-13,  seventy-eight  students  in  Colum- 
bia College  were  pursuing  professional  options,  as  fol- 
lows: Law  forty,  Medicine  fifteen.  Mines,  Engineering, 
and  Chemistry  seven,  Architecture  five,  Journalism  four. 
Teachers  College  seven.  The  opportunities  open  to 
women  to  pursue  combined  collegiate  and  professional 
courses  are  developing  slowly,  and  in  Journalism  at  least 
seem  to  be  upon  a  satisfactory  basis.  There  is  still  much 
to  be  accomplished,  however,  in  this  direction. 

The  logical  mind  of  Professor  Munroe  Smith  saw  that 


THE  COMBINED  COURSE  51 

the  student  who  spent  two  or  three  years  in  some  other 
college  and  then  came  to  Columbia  for  professional  work 
would  cover  the  same  ground  as  the  men  in  the  com- 
bined course  here,  but  would  have  no  bachelor's  degree 
to  show  for  it.  The  suggestion  was  made  that  Colum- 
bia confer  the  degree  after  four  years'  combined  resi- 
dence, but  great  consternation  was  aroused  thereby 
among  the  alumni  of  the  College,  who  felt  that  its  iden- 
tity would  be  thus  threatened.  In  some  cases,  fortu- 
nately they  are  growing  in  number,  the  college  jfirst 
attended  has  given  its  student  a  leave  of  absence  to 
pursue  professional  studies  at  Columbia  after  three 
years  of  residence,  and  has  graduated  him  with  his  class 
upon  the  certificate  of  Columbia  that  his  professional 
work  had  been  satisfactorily  accomplished. 

It  is  perhaps  characteristic  of  Columbia 's  lack  of  bind- 
ing uniformity  that,  in  spite  of  the  general  acceptance 
of  the  principle  of  the  combined  course,  three  of  the 
schools  most  recently  taken  into  the  University  fold  re- 
quire no  prelimiuary  college  residence  of  candidates 
for  the  professional  degree — Pharmacy,  Journalism,  and 
Household  and  Industrial  Arts.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
Engineering  School  and  the  School  of  Education  are 
planning,  like  the  Graduate  Faculty,  to  require  a  bach- 
elor's degree  or  its  equivalent  as  a  basis  for  admission. 
Through  the  encouragement  of  collegiate  preparation  in 
the  former  eases  and  provision  for  college  graduation  in. 
three  years  in  the  latter,  the  normal  period  of  collegiate 
and  professional  or  graduate  residence  remains,  how- 
ever, six  years  throughout  the  institution. 

To  understand  the  organization  of  the  University  one 
must  first  grasp  the  rather  confusing  fact  that  the  name 
Columbia  University  is  used  in  three  different  senses. 


52  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  TO-DAY 

Technic?illy  it  refers  only  to  the  original  corporation, 
the  direct  descendant  of  King's  College  of  the  eight- 
eenth century.  Until  1912  the  legal  title  was  Columbia 
College.  In  another  sense  it  includes  also  the  inde- 
pendent corporations  of  Barnard  College,  Teachers 
College,  and  the  New  York  College  of  Pharmacy,  and 
in  the  broadest  sense  it  includes  also  certain  activi- 
ties closely  identified  with  its  educational  life,  as  for 
example  the  University  Press,  but  not  directly  under 
the  control  of  any  one  of  the  four  boards  of 
trustees. 

The  written  law  of  the  University  is  very  brief,  com- 
prising less  than  forty  pages  of  statute.  Owing  largely 
to  the  fact  that  so  many  of  the  parts  enjoyed  an  inde- 
pendent existence  before  coming  into  the  system,  the 
actual  machinery  is  pretty  complex,  and  there  are  not 
a  few  theoretical  inconsistencies — ^not  a  bad  thing,  by 
the  way,  for  it  has  made  possible  local  experiments, 
notably  in  the  ingenious  and  resourceful  Teachers  Col- 
lege, which  have  later  been  successfully  adopted  through- 
out the  institution.  There  is,  nevertheless,  an  essential 
unity  which  can  be  grasped  when  one  remembers  that 
what  may  be  called  the  pattern  of  organization  is  not 
single  but  triple,  each  part  working  from  the  trustees 
through  the  president,  in  one  case  into  the  several  ad- 
ministrative offices,  in  another  into  the  several  divisions 
and  departments  of  instruction,  and  in  the  third  through 
the  council  to  the  faculties  and  administrative  boards. 
Speaking  broadly,  constructive  educational  matters  work 
upward  along  these  ladders  to  the  trustees,  while  finan- 
cial control  operates  downward. 

President  Butler  recently  stated  before  the  Royal 
Commission  on  University  Education  in  London  that 
perhaps  the  most  important  and  characteristic  eontri- 


THE  COMBINED  COURSE  53 

bution  of  the  United  States  to  education  is  the  re- 
sponsible part  played  by  the  trustees  of  its  colleges 
and  universities.  It  depends  upon  the  particular  board 
of  trustees  one  has  in  mind  and  particularly  upon 
whether  they  have  grasped  the  fundamental  principles 
behind  government  and  administration,  whether  one 
agrees  with  President  Butler  or  with  those  who  are 
inclined  rather  to  the  belief,  not  infrequently  expressed, 
that  it  is  only  when  the  trustees  are  idle  figure-heads 
that  they  are  not  a  source  of  danger  to  the  institution. 
This  question  will  be  considered  in  greater  detail  in  the 
concluding  chapter. 

At  any  rate,  the  fact  that  practically  all  the  trustees 
live  in  the  city  of  New  York  makes  it  possible  for  the 
different  Columbia  boards  to  hold  more  frequent  meet- 
ings and  in  general  to  be  in  closer  touch  with  the  insti- 
tution than  is  ordinarily  the  case.  The  initiation  and 
careful  preparation  of  reports  and  resolutions  in  the 
important  standing  committees  before  their  considera- 
tion by  the  board  at  large  is  another  characteristic  fea- 
ture. The  most  important  of  these  committees  concern 
themselves  with  finance,  education,  and  the  buildings  and 
grounds.  The  provision  that  at  least  one  member  must 
retire  each  year  keeps  them  from  degenerating  into  *  *  in- 
ner rings." 

Columbia  is  fortunate  in  the  fact  that  the  trustees, 
while  taking  the  initiative  themselves  in  matters  of 
finance  and  building  construction,  have  by  statute 
left  the  initiative  in  educational  matters  to  the 
president  and  faculties.  As  elsewhere,  their  re- 
sponsibility and  authority  are  final  and  no  educational 
policy  can  go  into  effect  without  their  approval.  As  a 
matter  of  routine  in  minor  affairs,  this  approval  is  in- 
direct.    The  minutes  of  all  faculties  are  laid  before 


54  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  TO-DAY 

the  board  at  the  monthly  meetings  and,  if  no  adverse 
action  is  taken,  the  recommendations  of  such  faculties 
are  regarded  as  having  been  approved.  In  important 
educational  matters,  however,  the  part  of  the  trustees 
is  the  reverse  of  perfunctory.  The  amount  of  labor 
which  the  formulation  of  the  annual  budget  alone  lays 
upon  the  members  of  the  committee  on  education  will  be 
shown  in  a  later  chapter,  and  in  general  it  is,  so  far  as  I 
know,  only  in  the  case  of  the  president  and  fellows  of 
Harvard  that  the  same  degree  of  painstaking  devotion  is 
given  to  problems  of  university  policy  as  they  arise,  and 
that  there  is  such  a  close  and  effective  co-operation  with 
the  academic  staff  in  shaping  the  policies  of  the  institu- 
tion. 

In  their  number,  the  twenty-four  trustees  represent  a 
wide  divergence  in  interest  and  point  of  view.  One  of 
the  present  board,  for  example,  was  elected  four  years 
after  his  graduation  from  college.  Another  was  chosen 
fifty-eight  years  after  he  had  graduated  as  valedictorian 
of  the  class  of  1848. 

The  trustees  of  the  original  corporation  are  nearly  all  of 
them  alumni,  six  of  the  number  by  recent  agreement 
being  nominated  by  the  organized  alumni  as  vacancies 
occur,  each  to  serve  for  a  period  of  six  years.  Other 
members  are  what  are  called  traditional  appointments — 
the  Episcopal  bishop  of  the  diocese,  the  rector  of  Trin- 
ity Church,  and  one  or  two  representative  members  of 
other  denominations.  The  number  of  graduates  upon 
the  boards  of  Barnard  and  Teachers  College  is  natu- 
rally much  smaller,  owing  to  the  comparative  youth  of 
these  corporations,  but  this  does  not  seem  to  affect  the 
devotion  of  the  members  nor  the  value  of  their  serv- 
ices. In  the  same  connection  it  may  be  observed  that 
in  the  older  board  the  traditional  appointees,  also  less 


PEESIDENT  55 

likely  to  be  alumni,  have  always  included  some  of  its 
most  influential  members. 

At  Columbia,  as  elsewhere  among  American  universi- 
ties, the  president  is  at  the  center  of  the  whole  complex 
scheme  of  things ;  he  is  like  a  telephone  *  *  central, ' '  bind- 
ing together  trustees,  faculty,  students,  alumni,  and  tbe 
general  public.  At  Columbia,  the  president  is  not  the 
chairman  of  the  board  of  trustees,  nor  is  he  ex  officio  a 
member.  As  specified  in  the  statutes,  his  powers  and 
duties  are  as  follows: 

**  The  President  shall  have  charge  of  the  educational 
administration  of  the  University,  and  shall  be  Chairman 
of  the  University  Council,  and  of  every  Faculty  estab- 
lished by  the  Trustees.  His  concurrence  shall  be  nec- 
essary to  every  act  of  the  Council  or  of  a  Faculty ;  un- 
less, after  his  non-concurrence,  the  act  or  resolution  shall 
be  again  passed  by  a  vote  of  two-thirds  of  the  entire 
body." 

He  is  also  charged  with  the  duties  of  general  over- 
sight of  the  physical  equipment  of  the  institution,  of 
calling  and  presiding  over  the  meetings  of  the  council 
and  faculties,  of  making  an  annual  report,  of  admin- 
istering discipline  or  directing  the  deans  to  do  so,  of 
arranging  for  leaves  of  absence,  and  finally  of  confer- 
ring degrees  when  the  requirements  of  the  statutes  have 
been  fulfilled. 

Actually  his  most  important  and  most  onerous  task 
— characteristically  not  even  mentioned  in  the  statutes — 
is  the  preparation  of  a  budget  which  controls  the  annual 
expenditures  of  the  institution  in  all  its  myriad  parts. 
Promotion  would  be  an  idle  honor,  if  unaccompanied 
by  a  change  in  the  budget,  and  perhaps  mainly  for  this 


56  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  TO-DAY 

reason  budget  preparation  entails  not  only  the  most  care- 
ful personal  consideration  and  labor  in  minute  details, 
and  later  protracted  sittings  with  trustees'  committees, 
but  countless  conferences  with  individual  members  of 
the  University.  All  this  must,  under  the  present  system, 
be  done  by  a  man  who  has  to  attend  each  year  more 
than  two  hundred  stated  meetings  of  boards,  faculties, 
and  committees,  to  know  what  is  happening  education- 
ally not  only  here  but  elsewhere,  to  inspire  people  to 
give  money,  to  make  numberless  speeches,  and  other- 
wise submit  to  the  duties  and  impositions  of  represent- 
ing the  University  before  the  public. 

President  Butler  once  described  the  duties  of  his  posi- 
tion by  comparing  it,  in  terms  of  English  political  life, 
to  a  prime  minister  holding  two  portfolios:  "  He  is 
prime  minister  in  that  he  is  ultimately  responsible  for 
the  policies  of  the  administration,  the  consultant,  the 
adviser,  and  the  friend  of  every  person  charged  with  an 
academic  duty.  He  holds  the  portfolio  of  foreign  af- 
fairs in  that  it  is  his  function  to  look  personally  after 
the  external  relations  of  the  University,  its  relations 
to  the  surrounding  public,  to  other  universities,  and  to 
the  affairs  of  the  country  at  large.  He  holds  the  port- 
folio of  chancellor  of  the  exchequer  in  that,  if  more 
expenditure  is  demanded  than  the  stated  income  will 
provide,  he  has  to  find  the  additional  income  needed. 
And  up  to  date  he  has  not  been  constitutionally  em- 
powered to  levy  a  tax  collectable  by  ordinary  legal 
methods!  "  He  went  on  to  say  that  the  president  lived 
almost  exclusively  in  the  future.  With  the  work  of  the 
current  year  he  has  no  contact  and  but  little  concern, 
save  with  specific  problems  which  are  brought  to  him 
for  consultation  or  advice.  He  hears  nothing  of  the 
current  work  until  he  reads  the  records  or  the  news- 


ADMINISTRATIVE  STAFF  57 

papers,  and,  if  he  trusts  the  latter,  he  hears  little  that 
is  true  of  what  is  going  on. 

As  to  whether  the  position  of  the  American  university- 
president  among  his  colleagues  of  the  teaching  staff  is 
that  of  primus  inter  pares  or  that  of  an  irresponsible 
and  dangerous  despot  depends,  like  the  verdict  upon  the 
trustees,  upon  one's  point  of  view.  At  Columbia,  at 
any  rate,  the  former  point  of  view  seems  to  be  dis- 
tinctly in  the  ascendency.  Here,  as  at  other  universi- 
ties, the  president  is  shamefully  overloaded,  and  it 
becomes  increasingly  harder  for  him  to  keep  his  atten- 
tion where  it  should  be,  in  planning  for  the  future. 
Whether  this  overloading  is  a  necessary  incident  of  the 
stage  of  university  development  in  which  we  find  our- 
selves, or  is  merely  because  no  one  has  hit  upon  the 
right  way  to  relieve  him,  I  am  not  competent  to  say. 
Certainly  the  public  at  large  needs  some  education  in 
this  matter.  A  man  who  would  not  go  to  the  president 
of  the  New  York  Central  Railway  to  buy  a  ticket  to  Yon- 
kers  will  insist  upon  burdening  the  president  of  one 
of  our  great  universities  about  some  affair  no  less 
trivial. 

Half  a  century  ago,  President  King  examined  the  boys 
for  entrance,  taught  classes,  and  kept  the  college  min- 
utes and  records  of  lateness.  He  brought  eases  of  dis- 
cipline before  the  trustees,  who  occupied  most  of  their 
time  over  them.  It  was  Barnard's  habit,  as  various 
agenda  occurred  to  him,  to  jot  them  down  on  a  slate. 
After  his  death  this  slate  was  found  in  his  desk  and  the 
memoranda  upon  it  showed  pathetically,  but  none  the 
less  vividly,  the  trivial  details  which  in  his  time  were 
occupying  the  attention  of  the  president.  When  one 
compares  these  conditions  with  the  present,  it  is  evident 
that,  although  Columbia  still  overloads  her  presidents, 


58  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  TO-DAY 

she  has  gone  a  good  way  along  the  path  of  devolution  of 
authority. 

Appointed  by  the  trustees  are  ten  deans  and  directors, 
who,  so  far  as  they  themselves  desire,  are  relieved  from 
teaching  duties.  Between  1890  and  1905  the  initiative 
as  to  these  appointments  came  from  the  faculty  con- 
cerned ;  since  then  it  has  come  from  the  president,  who, 
however,  consults  the  members  of  the  faculty  before  mak- 
ing his  recommendation  to  the  trustees.  Deans  are  no 
longer  the  venerable  personages  which  the  title  ordi- 
narily connotes.  Of  the  five  last  chosen,  the  average 
age  at  appointment  was  forty  years.  They  serve  in  a 
triple  representative  capacity :  to  the  central  administra- 
tion, to  teachers  with  divergent  views  upon  education, 
and  to  the  students  with  their  time-consuming  needs  and 
interests.  In  the  case  of  the  separate  corporation,  the 
deans  have  a  further  direct  responsibility  to  the  trus- 
tees of  that  corporation,  and  the  deans  of  other  facul- 
ties often  meet  the  trustees'  committee  on  education  to 
present  and  discuss  reports  from  the  departments  in- 
cluded in  their  respective  faculties.  The  role  is  not  an 
easy  one  to  play,  but  at  any  rate  they  are  all  doing  their 
best  and  it  is  their  hope  that  they  lighten  in  some  meas- 
ure the  pressure  which  would  otherwise  fall  upon  the 
president. 

An  experiment  in  relieving  the  latter  of  some  of  the 
tasks  which  cannot  be  classified  as  falling  within  any 
particular  school  has  recently  been  made  in  the  ap- 
pointment of  Professor  "W.  H.  Carpenter  as  Provost. 
While  it  is  too  early  to  judge  the  result,  there  can  be  no 
doubt  as  to  the  number  and  importance  of  these  prob- 
lems. There  is  also  a  provost  of  Barnard  College  whose 
duty  is  to  maintain  and  develop  the  university  relations 


ADMINISTRATIVE  STAFF  59 

of  the  College,  while  the  dean  is  to  carry  on  the  internal 
administration  and  to  represent  Barnard  as  an  inde- 
pendent organization.  At  Teachers  College,  the  largest 
single  element  in  the  University,  the  dean  is  assisted  by 
a  controller  and  by  two  directors,  of  household  and 
industrial  arts. 

Less  directly  connected  with  teaching  and  research, 
but  performing  indirect  educational  services  which  it 
is  difficult  for  an  outsider  to  appreciate,  are  the  great 
administrative  offices.  Columbia  is  fortunate  in  having 
at  her  service,  besides  the  officers  already  mentioned, 
thirty-four  men  and  women,  fifteen  of  them  college 
graduates,  whose  work  is  fully  or  primarily  adminis- 
trative, and  whose  duty  is  to  carry  out  the  daily 
tasks  which  formerly  took  up  most  of  the  time  of  the 
president  and  trustees,  as  a  perusal  of  the  early  minutes 
will  convincingly  show,  and  which  to-day  throughout 
the  country  are  too  often  in  the  hands  of  more  or  less 
efficient  faculty  committees. 

The  lead  in  establishing  these  junior  administrative 
positions,  which  was  taken  at  Harvard  and  Columbia 
at  about  the  same  time,  has  now  been  followed  By  all 
the  progressive  institutions  of  the  United  States,  and 
there  are  even  signs  that  the  example  is  being  felt  in 
England  and  Germany.  These  men  and  women  are 
really  constituting  a  new  profession  of  great  public 
usefulness.  The  businesslike  administration  of  their  of- 
fices, particularly  those  of  the  secretary,  the  registrar, 
and  the  officer  in  charge  of  buildings  and  grounds,  car- 
ries a  great  load  of  routine  detail  and  leaves  the  teachers 
free  to  do  their  teaching,  and  the  deans  and  advisers  to 
establish  an  acquaintance  with  each  student  based  on 
personal  knowledge  rather  than  printed  forms. 


60  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  TO-DAY 

Work  of  this  kind  needs  a  clear,  analytical  mind,  be- 
cause the  fulfillment  of  its  purpose  depends  upon  the 
ability  to  know,  without  being  told,  what  is  one's  busi- 
ness and  what  is  not;  and  particularly  to  distinguish 
between  a  real  precedent  and  a  pseudo-precedent.  "With 
the  professor's  particular  business,  these  administra- 
tive officers  should  have  nothing  to  do:  that  is,  with 
the  formulation  of  constructive  educational  policy,  with 
the  organization  and  carrying  on  of  effective  teaching, 
with  the  pursuit  and  direction  of  research  and  scholarly 
publication.  The  administrative  officer  must  take  heed 
lest  he  irritate  the  professor  or  actually  hamper  him  seri- 
ously in  his  work;  nothing  is  easier  than  for  an  in- 
geniously minded  youth  in  an  executive  position  to  spin 
out  schemes  for  reports  and  statistics  that  involve  un- 
necessary and  intolerable  burdens  upon  his  academic 
elders  and  betters.  If,  however,  he  keeps  clear  of  these 
pitfalls,  he  can  have  the  comforting  assurance  that  he 
is  doing  his  share,  and  it  is  no  small  share,  in  the  great 
work  of  the  institution. 

Most  closely  allied  with  the  president's  own  office  is 
that  of  the  secretary,  whose  stated  duties  are  few,  but 
whose  actual  tasks  are  legion.  For  example,  more  than 
thirteen  thousand  persons  each  year  make  inquiry  as  to 
entering  the  University.  Their  immediate  requirements 
are  satisfied.  Their  names  and  desires  are  then  recorded 
in  order  that  future  material  that  might  interest  them 
can  be  sent  without  further  request  on  their  part.  This 
classified  card  index  of  correspondence  furnishes  an  in- 
valuable basis  for  plans  to  meet  the  needs  of  the  future. 
Besides  carrying  on  the  general  correspondence  and  su- 
pervising the  university  printing  and  distribution  (this 
means  many  thousand  more  letters  and  fifty  thousand 
dollars'  worth  of  printing),  keeping  all  the  academic 


ADMINISTRATIVE  STAFF  61 

records  and  looking  after  the  details  of  public  functions, 
the  secretary's  office  is  a  sort  of  ante-room  to  the  presi- 
dent's, and  serves,  finally,  as  an  experiment  station  for 
many  a  new  and  tentative  development. 

Fifty  years  ago  the  total  provision  for  janitorial  serv- 
ice was  one  thousand  dollars  per  year,  but  at  present  our 
largest  administrative  office  is  that  of  grounds  and  build- 
ings with  a  staff  of  more  than  three  hundred.  At  its 
head  is  the  university  controller,  who  is  responsible  not 
only  for  the  routine  care  of  the  plant,  but  for  the  plan- 
ning and  construction  of  new  buildings.  In  a  single 
recent  year  no  fewer  than  six  new  buildings,  with  a  floor 
area  more  than  one  and  one-half  times  that  of  the  entire 
Forty-ninth  Street  equipment,  and  representing  an  ex- 
penditure of  over  two  millions,  were  on  the  stocks.  The 
operations  of  the  department  are  upon  so  large  a  scale 
that  it  is  possible  to  apply  to  advantage  the  principles 
of  modern  scientific  management.  For  example,  the  de- 
vising of  a  simple  but  effective  method  of  testing  coal 
resulted  in  a  striking  annual  saving.  In  addition  to  the 
oversight  of  new  construction  and  the  general  mainte- 
nance of  the  plant,  the  controller  and  his  assistants,  the 
superintendent  and  assistant  superintendent  of  build- 
ings and  grounds,  are  responsible  for  the  residence  halls 
of  the  corporation  and  of  the  University  commons.  Hu- 
man nature  being  what  it  is,  these  furnish  particularly 
nerve-racking  problems.  I  am  sure  they  often  wish  that 
it  were  now  possible,  as  it  was  in  DeWitt  Clinton's  day, 
to  furnish  board  and  lodging  to  the  students  for  a  dollar 
and  a  half  per  week. 

The  registrar's  office  keeps  accurately  and  availably 
the  hundreds  of  thousands  of  records  upon  which  de- 
pend the  admission,  advancement,  and  graduation  of 
an  army  of  more  than  eleven  thousand  students  of  all 


62  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  TO-DAY 

sorts  and  conditions,  whose  status  is  complicated  by  seven 
or  eight  hundred  cases  of  cross-registration  annually. 
His  task  has  practically  doubled  within  the  past  five 
years,  owing  in  part  to  growth  in  numbers,  and  in  part 
to  the  greater  personal  attention  given  to  each  student. 
Before  the  office  was  upon  a  satisfactory  basis,  the  right 
hand  of  the  institution  did  not  know  what  its  left  was 
doing;  students  received  scholarships  simultaneously  in 
different  schools  and  others  discreetly  tucked  themselves 
into  corners  and  pursued  curricula  devoted  exclusively 
to  fraternity  membership  or  football. 

The  bursar,  who  by  the  way  is  technically  responsible 
to  the  treasurer  and  not  to  the  president,  has  the  al- 
most equally  difficult  task  of  administering  the  complex 
regulations  as  to  fees.  He  also  maintains  a  students '  bank 
and  distributes  the  welcome  treasurer's  checks  at  the 
end  of  each  month  to  the  faculty. 

A  most  useful  man  to  the  students  is  the  employment 
secretary,  whose  records,  since  the  work  was  given  ade- 
quate financial  support  in  1902,  show  student  earnings 
of  considerably  more  than  a  million  dollars,  obtained 
largely  through  the  direct  aid  of  his  office.  About  one- 
third  of  this  sum  was  earned  through  summer  work  of 
various  kinds.  With  the  exception  of  Teachers  College, 
the  even  more  important  work  of  providing  permanent 
positions  for  graduates  and  seeing  that  good  men  and 
women  are  advanced  from  one  position  to  another,  is  not 
given  the  attention  that  it  should  receive,  and  one  of  our 
greatest  needs  is  more  money  for  this  work. 

The  work  of  the  chaplain  and  of  the  library  and  admis- 
sions office  are  described  elsewhere,  and  limitations  of 
space  prevent  more  than  the  mention  here  of  the  pur- 
chasing agent,  the  controller  of  student  organizations,  the 
health  officer,  the  newspaper  representative,  and  of  offi- 


ADMINISTRATIVE  STAFF  63 

cers  who,  though  technically  not  under  University  con- 
trol, are  really  part  of  its  administrative  fabric:  as,  for 
example,  the  secretary  of  Earl  Hall,  the  athletic  manager, 
the  alumni  secretary,  those  in  charge  of  the  University 
Press,  and  the  Faculty  Club — in  sooth,  a  goodly  com- 
pany! 

He  who  looks  for  them  can  find  plenty  of  incon- 
sistencies in  the  admiuistrative  system.  From  the  time 
that  Mr.  Low  took  up  the  task  of  establishing  some  kind 
of  organization  for  the  completely  disorganized  insti- 
tution, there  have  been  periodic  swingings  of  the  pen- 
dulum toward  greater  centralization  and  then  away  from 
it.  In  particular,  the  routine  administrative  work  of 
the  allied  corporations  is  now  conducted  rather  in  gen- 
eral harmony  with  the  central  offices  than  under  their 
direct  control.  In  not  a  few  cases,  changes  and  excep- 
tions result  from  questions  of  personality  rather  than 
of  principle.  In  general,  however,  the  essential  point 
is  well  looked  after,  and  that  is  that  there  should  be 
competent  persons  at  the  points  of  contact  in  our  com- 
plex machinery;  for  it  is  at  these  points  that  friction 
otherwise  develops  and  loss  of  power  ensues. 


Ill 

WAYS  AND  MEANS 

Johnson's  Announcement.  Financial  Assets.  Sources  of  Wealth. 
Gifts  and  their  Significance.  Expenditures.  Problems  for  Trus- 
tees: Space,  Salaries,  Earning  Capacity,  Deficit  and  Debt.  Sites, 
past  and  present.  The  Central  Group.  Other  Buildings.  The 
Libraries.    University  Bibliography.    Laboratories  and  Collections. 

The  purpose  of  Columbia  University  may  still  be  accu- 
rately described  in  the  quaint  phraseology  of  President 
Johnson's  announcement  of  King's  College  in  1754: 

"  A  serious,  virtuous,  and  industrious  Course  of  Life 
being  first  provided  for,  it  is  further  the  Design  of  this 
College  to  instruct  and  perfect  the  Youth  in  the  Learned 
Languages,  and  in  the  Arts  of  Reasoning  exactly,  of 
Writing  correctly,  and  Speaking  eloquently :  And  in  the 
Arts  of  Numbering  and  Measuring,  of  Surveying  and 
Navigation,  of  Geograph3'^  and  History,  of  Husbandry, 
Commerce,  and  Government;  and  in  the  Knowledge  of 
all  Nature  in  the  Heavens  above  us,  and  in  the  Air, 
Water,  and  Earth  around  us,  and  the  various  kinds  of 
Meteors,  Stones,  Mines,  and  Minerals,  Plants  and  Ani- 
mals, and  of  every  Thing  useful  for  the  Comfort,  the 
Convenience,  and  Elegance  of  Life,  in  the  chief  Manu- 
factures relating  to  any  of  these  things;  and  finally,  to 
lead  them  from  the  Study  of  Nature,  to  the  Knowledge 
of  themselves,  and  of  the  God  of  Nature  and  their  duty 
to  Him,  themselves  and  one  another ;  and  everything  that 
can  contribute  to  their  true  Happiness  both  here  and 
hereafter. ' ' 

I  have  tried  to  describe  in  baldest  outline  the  con- 
stitutional machinery  of  the  institution  for  carrying  out 
this  purpose — "  consolidated  and  yet  flexible,  central- 

64 


FINANCIAL  ASSETS  65 

ized  as  regards  legislation,  decentralized  as  regards  ad- 
ministration, living  not  only  at  the  center  but  at  every 
part."  It  may  now  be  vpell  to  consider  briefly  (1)  what 
are  the  sinews  of  war  and  how  obtained,  and  (2)  what  is 
the  present  material  equipment,  before  outlining  the 
work  of  the  different  schools,  summarizing  the  work  of 
an  academic  year,  and  finally  devoting  the  remainder  of 
the  book  to  what  after  all  makes  the  real  university, 
its  human  cargo. 

The  present  financial  assets  of  the  four  corporations, 
including  the  assessed  valuation  upon  the  land  and  build- 
ings used  for  educational  purposes,  is  more  than  $54,- 
000,000.  At  Mr.  Low's  inauguration  it  was  $9,000,000. 
At  Dr.  Butler's  it  was  $26,000,000.  In  round  figures, 
the  present  assets  of  the  four  corporations  are  as 
follows : 


Colnmbia  Barnard  Teachers  Phar' 

University  College  College  macy 

Property  owned  and 

used $17,000,000  $3,000,000  $2,500,000  $350,000 

Net  investments. .. .    31,000,000  1,300,000  2,300,000 

Less  debts 3,500,000  600.000  70,000 


An  analysis  of  the  sources  of  the  present  wealth  of  the 
University  can  be  made  only  roughly  because  the  original 
source  of  certain  assets  has  been  complicated  by  the  sale 
of  real  estate,  by  building  operations,  and  the  like.  The 
funds  of  King's  College  (based,  it  may  be  said  in  pass- 
ing, mainly  upon  public  lotteries  and  State  grants  from 
excise)  were  swallowed  up  in  the  Revolution.  The 
$40,000  given  by  the  State  Legislature  to  Columbia  Col- 
lege at  the  end  of  the  last  century  went  into  buildings. 
There  remain  three  great  sources:  The  original  gift  of 
land  from  Trinity  Church  in  1754,  to  which  a  small  ad- 


66  WAYS  AND  MEANS 

dition  was  made  by  the  city  now  yielding  about  $127,000 
each  year.  Then  came  the  grounds  of  the  old  Hosack 
Botanical  Gardens,  west  of  Fifth  Avenue  between  Forty- 
seventh  and  Fifty-first  streets,  which  were  the  gift  of 
the  State  in  1814,  a  property  which  at  the  time,  although 
valued  at  $75,000,  it  would  have  been  hard  to  sell  for 
$7,000.  Its  original  area  has  been  reduced  by  sales 
to  about  two-thirds  of  its  former  size;  what  remains 
yields  annually  about  $578,500.  The  third  source  is 
individual  gifts  and  bequests,  amounting  to  nearly  $26,- 
000,000,  of  which  only  about  $200,000  was  received 
before  1890.  Indeed,  in  more  than  one  year  of  Mr. 
Low's  administration  the  gifts  greatly  exceeded  in  value 
all  those  received  prior  to  his  inauguration.  When  one 
considers  the  totals  of  the  decade  just  closed,  it  is  in- 
teresting to  remember  the  general  consternation  and 
amusement  when  President  Butler's  first  report  called 
for  $10,000,000.  On  a  single  day,  March  6,  1911,  the 
trustees  accepted  gifts  and  bequests  of  $1,800,000. 

A  list  of  the  gifts  of  $50,000  or  more,  with  the  pur- 
poses to  which  they  have  been  put,  will  be  found  in  the 
Appendix.  Of  those  received  by  the  central  corpora- 
tion since  Mr.  Low's  inauguration,  over  $6,600,000  have 
been  for  land  and  buildings,  $8,100,000  for  endowments 
and  establishment  of  special  funds,  and  about  $570,000 
for  miscellaneous  purposes. 

It  may  be  of  interest  to  analyze  these  gifts  in  other 
ways.  For  example,  $6,600,000  came  from  or  on  be- 
half of  members  of  the  institution  (alumni  or  trustees), 
and  about  $8,600,000  from  persons  having  no  such  con- 
nection at  the  time  the  gift  was  made.  Classified  in 
another  way,  $6,100,000  was  based  upon  the  general 
interest  of  the  donors  in  the  work  of  the  institution  as 
a  whole,  and  $9,100,000  was  based  upon  their  particular 


GIFTS  AND   THEIR   SIGNIFICANCE        67 

interest  in  some  special  field  of  its  activity.  The  bequest 
of  John  Stewart  Kennedy  is  an  excellent  example  of  the 
former  type,  and  that  of  Joseph  Pulitzer  of  the  latter. 

The  common  interest  of  different  members  of  one 
family,  usually  in  some  particular  field,  is  a  significant 
factor  in  the  recent  increase  in  Columbia's  resources. 
To  W.  K.  Vanderbilt,  his  children,  and  his  son-in-law, 
W.  D.  Sloane,  the  University  owes  practically  all  its 
physical  equipment  for  the  study  of  medicine  and  the 
endowment  of  its  clinic  and  hospital.  Similarly  the  fam- 
ily names  of  Avery,  Dodge,  Hartley,  Havemeyer,  Mil- 
bank,  Schermerhorn,  Stokes,  and  others  may  well  be  held 
in  grateful  remembrance. 

If  when  thirty  years  ago  the  trustees  gave  their  con- 
sent to  some  slight  provision  for  the  higher  education 
of  females,  as  they  called  them,  they  could  have  fore- 
seen in  how  large  part  Columbia's  future  resources  were 
to  be  received  at  the  generous  hands  of  women,  they 
might,  I  think,  have  been  less  reluctant  and  half-hearted 
about  the  matter.  The  gifts  from  women  have  not  only 
been  conspicuously  large,  but  have  been  as  a  rule  both 
timely  and  intelligent. 

Another  classification  will  bring  about  the  close  rela- 
tion between  the  institution  and  the  city  of  New  York, 
a  point  which  I  tried  to  emphasize  in  the  introductory 
chapter.  Of  these  gifts  there  have  come  from  New 
Yorkers,  whose  general  responsibility  to  the  city  has 
been  also  shown  by  their  gifts  to  other  representative 
activities,  the  sum  of  $8,300,000.  The  remainder,  so 
far  as  I  know,  has  come  from  those  who  have  not  been 
identified  with  other  public  activities  of  the  city.  An 
interesting  and  valuable  element  among  these  gifts  has 
been  the  provision  by  general  subscription  for  an  aca- 
demic memorial,  usually  a  fellowship,  to  some  conspieu- 


68  WAYS  AND  MEANS 

ously  useful  citizen  of  New  York — George  William  Cur- 
tis, Joseph  Mosenthal,  Anton  Seidl,  Colonel  Waring, 
Carl  Schurz,  or  Richard  Watson  Gilder. 

The  value  of  gifts  depends  perhaps  only  secondarily 
upon  their  amount.  The  element  of  timeliness  is  of 
great  importance:  Barnard  College,  for  example,  came 
into  being  when  fifty  people  promised  to  give  one  hun- 
dred dollars  annually  for  four  years.  Another  factor  is 
freedom  in  the  use  of  the  gift.  President  Butler  in  a 
recent  report  has  said : 

"  What  the  University  most  needs  is  gifts  that  will 
aid  it  in  doing  better  the  work  which  it  has  already 
undertaken,  and  not  gifts  which  compel  it  to  assume 
new  obligations  that  in  turn  make  an  additional  drain 
upon  its  already  overtaxed  resources.  Many  of  those 
who  make  gifts  to  a  university  really  put  upon  the  uni- 
versity the  new  obligation  of  acting,  without  compensa- 
tion, as  their  own  trustees  or  executors  for  the  purpose 
of  carrying  out  some  plan  or  purpose  of  their  own.  An 
examination  of  the  gifts  made  to  American  universities 
during  a  period  of  years  would  probably  indicate  that 
many  persons  of  means  desire  to  use  a  university  for 
some  purpose  of  their  own  rather  than  to  help  it  carry 
on  the  work  for  which  it  is  established.  Gifts  for  gen- 
eral endowment,  for  needed  buildings  or  equipment,  or 
for  the  support  of  work  already  in  progress  and  insuffi- 
ciently sustained,  really  help  a  university  to  serve  the 
purpose  for  which  it  exists.  Gifts  for  new  and  desig- 
nated purposes  may  or  may  not  help  a  university.  If 
these  designated  purposes  are  closely  allied  with  work 
already  in  progress,  or  if  they  are  purposes  which  the 
university  is  anxious  and  ready  to  accomplish,  then 
gifts  to  carry  them  on  are  helpful.  If,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  designated  purpose  is  one  which  the  university 
would  prefer  not  to  undertake,  or  one  which  it  cannot 
undertake  without  adding  something  to  the  amount  pro- 
posed as  a  gift,  then  the  gift,  instead  of  being  helpful, 
is  a  source  of  embarrassment.    Nevertheless,  whenever 


EXPENDITURES  69 

such  a  gift  is  offered  it  must  be  accepted,  unless  the  trus- 
tees are  to  run  the  risk  of  grave  misunderstanding  and 
criticism." 


No  more  valuable  gift  has  come  than  that  of  an 
anonymous  donor,  who  for  more  than  a  decade  gave 
$30,000  annually  for  current  expenses,  absolutely  with- 
out restriction.  This  made  provision  for  a  fund  irrever- 
ently but  affectionately  known  about  the  University  as 
the  "  yellow  dog  "  fund,  which  solved  many  a  trying 
problem  arising  between  budgets. 

Many  of  the  most  valuable  gifts  have  not  been  of 
money  at  all,  but  have  consisted  of  works  of  art,  usu- 
ally class  memorials.  Most  important  of  all  are  the 
many  examples  of  devoted  service  on  the  part  of  officers 
and  trustees.  Sometimes  this  type  of  gift  takes  the  shape 
of  a  permanent  memorial,  like  the  herbarium  of  Professor 
Torrey  or  the  chemical  museum  of  Professor  Chand- 
ler, but  more  often  it  is  bound  up  in  the  fiber  of  the 
University  itself,  and  its  memory  lies  in  the  grateful 
hearts  of  colleagues  and  students. 

Entire  responsibility  and  authority  for  the  expendi- 
ture of  money  rests  with  the  trustees  of  the  several 
corporations.  They  take  this  responsibility  in  the  ap- 
proval of  the  annual  budget.  At  present  no  faculty 
as  such  has  any  statutory  power  to  make  suggestions 
as  to  finances.  Departments  can  recommend  only  in 
relation  to  themselves  and  their  members,  and  this  they 
do  with  great  enthusiasm  and  vigor.  The  requests  for 
desirable  increases  following  the  announcement  of 
Mr.  Kennedy's  princely  bequest  would  have  consumed 
the  income  from  a  sum  four  times  as  large. 

In  the  University  Corporation,  taking  the  figures  for 


70  WAYS  AND  MEANS 

1912-13,  the  annual  income  is  spent  proportionately  as 
follows : 

For  overhead  charges,  "educational  administration". .  .$  151,775.00 
For  teachers'  salaries,  departmental  appropriations,  etc. 
(including  $318,900  received  from  Barnard  and  Teach- 
ers colleges) 1,673,988.00 

For  care  of  buildings  and  grounds 331,538.00 

For  library 106,461.50 

For  business  administration 50,200  00 

For  annuities 36,580.00 

For  interest 115,945.00 

For  redemption  fund 100,000.00 

For  miscellaneous  expenses,  including  retiring  and  dis- 
ability allowances,  fellowships,  prizes,  etc 143,646.11 

Total $3,700,133. 61 

To  meet  these  charges,  tuition  and  other  student  fees 
bring  in  a  total  of  a  little  more  than  a  million  and  a 
half,  and  rents,  mortgages,  and  dividends  about  a  mil- 
lion and  a  quarter.  A  table  giving  a  summary  of  the 
most  recent  financial  report  of  the  entire  institution  will 
be  found  in  the  Appendix. 

A  century  ago  the  total  income  of  the  institution  was 
about  $7,500.  The  College  owned,  in  addition  to  the 
site  and  fifty  city  lots  adjacent,  some  land  near  Lake 
George,  which  was  later  sold  for  about  $11,000.  In 
1814  came  the  gift  from  the  State  of  the  Hosack 
Botanical  Gardens,  but  not  until  1842  did  the  real 
estate  of  the  College  begin  to  produce  any  appreciable 
income.  That  year  the  revenue  was  $22,855.  In  the 
year  following  came  the  first  considerable  private  be- 
quest since  the  Revolutionary  War^ — $20,000  from  Fred- 
erick Gebhard  to  found  a  professorship.  Then  followed 
another  barren  period  until  1881,  when  Stephen  Whitney 
Phoenix  became  the  first  of  the  great  alumni  benefactors, 
leaving  to  the  College  his  valuable  collection  of  books 
and,  subject  to  certain  life  interests,  his  entire  fortune 


PKOBLEMS  FOR  TRUSTEES       71 

of  about  half  a  million  dollars.  This  and  President  Bar- 
nard 's  own  estate  of  about  $90,000  were  the  only  impor- 
tant additions  until  in  1891  the  merger  with  the  Medical 
School  added  the  Vanderbilt  family  to  the  benefactors  of 
the  University.  For  purposes  of  comparison,  it  should 
be  remembered  that  in  the  twenty  years  prior  to  1890 
Harvard  University  had  received  $5,000,000  in  money 
and  $2,500,000  in  buildings  and  lands. 

At  the  height  of  Barnard's  influence,  in  1884-85,  the 
total  income  was  short  of  $350,000.  In  the  year  follow- 
ing Mr.  Low 's  inauguration  the  receipts  from  rents  were 
$380,000,  from  students'  fees  about  $250,000,  and  less 
than  $50,000  from  interest  on  trust  funds.  About 
$30,000  came  from  annual  gifts  for  specific  purposes. 

It  must  be  remembered  that  the  responsibility  of  the 
trustees  is  only  secondarily  for  the  expenses  of  a  given 
year.  Their  eyes  must  always  be  on  the  future  and  in 
their  plans  for  the  future  they  must  always  keep  be- 
fore them  the  existence  of  certain  problems  which  are 
difficult  enough  to  cope  with  singly,  but  which  are 
infinitely  more  so  in  the  interwoven  fashion  in  which 
they  present  themselves. 

No  institution  in  the  world,  I  suppose,  has  had  to 
struggle  harder  than  Columbia  with  the  problem  of 
space.  Crowded  from  her  home  by  the  growing  city  for 
a  second  time,  she  established  herself  at  Morningside  at 
a  cost  of  nearly  $7,000,000,  thereby  almost  doubling  the 
price  of  land  there,  and  was  shortly  compelled  by  her 
own  rapid  growth  to  add  to  her  holdings  beyond  the 
original  purchases  at  an  additional  expense  for  land  of 
$4,000,000.  The  main  addition  was  the  purchase  of  the 
South  Field.  This  was  made  possible  by  the  loyal  in- 
terest of  a  group  of  alumni  and  other  citizens,  who, 


72  WAYS  AND  MEANS 

when  the  public  sale  of  the  property  was  threatened  in 
1902,  purchased  the  land  themselves  and  held  it  until 
the  University,  through  the  sale  of  certain  other  prop- 
erty, was  enabled  to  take  it  over.  It  was  similar  thought- 
ful and  generous  conduct  on  the  part  of  certain  friends 
of  Teachers  College  that  permitted  the  construction  of 
the  dormitory  building  known  as  Whittier  Hall,  to  the 
east  of  the  original  Teachers  College  site,  and  its  final 
turning  over  to  the  College  in  1908. 

The  wisdom  of  the  University  Corporation  in  adopting 
the  expensive  type  of  building  entailed  by  the  approval 
in  1893  of  the  general  scheme  of  Messrs.  MeKim,  Mead, 
and  "White  has  been  sometimes  questioned.  There  is  no 
doubt  that  it  has  meant  a  large  initial  outlay,  larger  than 
was  first  contemplated,  owing  to  the  great  increase  in  the 
cost  of  construction.  Apart  from  the  intangible  but  none 
the  less  real  asset  of  a  stately  and  dignified  architectural 
scheme,  however,  two  definite  benefits  have  become  mani- 
fest. The  absence  of  a  well-ordered  plan  or  indeed  the 
adoption  of  a  plan  of  some  other  type  would  have  seri- 
ously limited  the  number  of  buildings  which  could  ap- 
propriately be  erected  upon  the  restricted  area  of  the 
site,  a  limitation  which  would  have  caused  serious  trou- 
ble before  this;  and,  furthermore,  the  lower  cost  of 
maintenance  of  these  well-constructed  buildings  repre- 
sents an  annual  saving  of  the  interest  upon  a  very  con- 
siderable capital.  The  maintenance  charges  upon  the 
Columbia  buildings  is  proportionately  to  their  cost  the 
lowest  in  the  United  States. 

A  second  perennial  problem  is  that  of  academic  sala- 
ries. It  is,  to  be  sure,  often  possible  to  pay  men  in  tech- 
nical branches  with  the  prestige  that  comes  from  a  title. 
There  is  a  story  at  the  Medical  School  about  an  instructor 


SALARIES  AND  EARNING  CAPACITY       73 

who  said  he  could  hardly  afford  promotion  to  a  pro- 
fessorship because  the  salary  was  so  much  lower  than 
that  of  the  obscurer  position  which  he  then  held.  There 
are  also  some  few  men  rich  in  their  own  right  or  in  that 
of  their  wives  who  will  do  first-class  work  regardless 
of  salary.  In  general,  however,  the  University  gets  what 
it  pays  for,  and  what  proportion  of  its  total  income 
it  should  pay,  and  to  whom,  is  a  source  of  never-ending 
worry.  The  greatly  increased  cost  of  living,  particu- 
larly in  the  great  cities,  the  increased  resources  and  con- 
sequent tempting  power  of  the  State  universities,  with 
the  resulting  ethical  problem  as  to  holding  some  par- 
ticular man  at  the  expense  of  his  fellows,  the  possibili- 
ties of  indirect  help  to  the  staff  through  faculty  homes, 
the  question  of  disability  allowances  and  pensions, 
greatly  relieved  but  not  wholly  solved  by  the  Carnegie 
Foundation,  the  pressure  from  increasing  numbers  or  de- 
partmental ambition  to  create  new  positions — all  these 
and  many  others  are  factors  in  this  complex  problem. 

Then  there  is  the  problem  of  earning  capacity.  The 
original  King 's  College  charges  were  twenty-five  shillings 
per  quarter,  reinforced  by  a  parent's  bond  against  dam- 
ages to  property,  by  mulct  not  to  exceed  fourpence  for 
each  ease  of  negligence  in  study,  and  finally  by  a  pistole 
to  the  president  upon  graduation.  The  present  fees  are, 
needless  to  say,  considerably  higher.  They  are  adminis- 
tered in  a  businesslike  way,  in  general  upon  an  d  la 
carte  basis  rather  than  table  d'hote.  That  is  to  say,  the 
student  pays  for  the  courses  he  actually  takes.  The  cost 
of  instruction,  however,  has  increased  still  faster  than 
the  rate  and  efficiency  of  the  fee  collection,  and,  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  it  has  at  no  time  been  possible  to  add 
to  the  capital  of  the  institution  by  surplus  from  the  fees 


74  WAYS  AND  MEANS 

of  students.  President  Barnard  continually  pointed  out 
to  the  trustees  the  peculiar  responsibility  of  Columbia 
to  take  that  position  of  leadership  to  which  her  endow- 
ment, with  fees  as  only  a  secondary  source  of  income, 
entitled  her.  The  present  proportion  of  total  annual  ex- 
pense met  by  earnings  varies  from  eighty-two  per  cent, 
in  Teachers  College,  where  this  high  figure  presents  a 
problem  to  which  the  dean  has  repeatedly  called  atten- 
tion, down  to  twenty-nine  per  cent,  at  the  College  of 
Physicians  and  Surgeons. 

There  is  always  present  the  question  of  maintaining 
departments  which  are  of  great  importance  in  the  field 
of  scholarship,  but  which  attract  very  few  students,  and 
the  problem  of  facing  certain  and  serious  loss  of  fees 
through  an  advance  in  educational  standards,  as  was 
done  in  medicine  ten  years  ago  and  is  about  to  be  done 
in  engineering. 

Since,  in  any  event,  the  student  pays  only  a  part  of 
the  actual  cost  of  tuition,  the  distinction  between  fee- 
paying  students  and  scholarship  students  is  only  one  of 
degree.  The  problem  of  providing  for  the  really  deserv- 
ing student  regardless  of  his  ability  to  pay  fees  has  been 
fairly  well  solved  in  recent  years  by  loan  funds  and  fel- 
lowships, and  particularly  since  a  logical  system  of  tui- 
tion scholarships,  with  tenure  depending  on  high  stand- 
ing, has  replaced  the  old  haphazard  system  of  exemption. 
Such  scholarships  are  available  for  one  out  of  every 
ten  students. 

The  question  of  the  limitation  of  the  student  body, 
which  already  faces  Teachers  College  and  which  will 
face  all  the  other  parts  of  the  University,  one  after 
another,  involves  not  only  the  educational  question  of 
individual  attention  to  each  student,  but  the  limitations 
of  space,  and  finally  the  financial  fact  that,  although 


DEFICIT  AND  DEBT  75 

within  certain  limits  students'  fees  are  assets,  at  other 
points  every  individual  student  involves  an  additional 
expense. 

Bound  up  in  all  of  these  is  the  final  problem  of  deficit 
and  debt.  After  their  bitter  struggle,  lasting  for  more 
than  half  a  century,  with  both  these  ogres,  the  struggle 
being  made  the  harder  through  the  constant  temptation, 
bravely  resisted,  to  pay  for  the  present  from  the  future 
by  the  sale  of  real  estate,  the  trustees  breathed  a  sigh 
of  relief  when,  in  1872,  they  found  the  institution  free 
and  clear.  President  Barnard  endeavored  to  prepare 
their  minds  for  a  return  to  bondage  by  reminding  them 
that  "  debt  is  no  doubt  a  great  evil,  but  there  are  evils 
worse  than  this,  and  among  these  is  stagnation. ' '  It  was 
not,  however,  until  the  purchase  and  development  of  the 
Morningside  property  was  undertaken  that  a  debt  was 
incurred :  $1,000,000  to  meet  one-half  the  purchase  price, 
$1,300,000  for  buildings,  $600,000  for  grading  and  pav- 
ing, and  $85,000  for  interest  on  the  debts  already  in- 
curred. The  remaining  expenses  were  met  by  the  sale 
of  the  Forty-ninth  Street  site  and  other  real  estate  at 
about  $1,200,000  and  from  gifts  and  bequests  of  about 
$4,000,000. 

The  original  proposal  to  use  temporarily  the  old 
buildings  on  the  site  would  have  involved  a  total 
expense  of  but  $2,700,000  and  slight  indebtedness,  if 
any,  but,  as  events  have  proved,  the  more  ambitious  plan 
later  adopted  was  the  wiser.  For  many  long  years  this 
debt,  although  the  trustees  succeeded  in  funding  it  tem- 
porarily at  three  per  cent.,  proved  a  grievous  burden. 
The  merger  of  the  Medical  School  in  1891,  although  it 
increased  the  nominal  assets  of  the  University  by  more 
than  a  million  and  a  half  dollars,  added  tremendously 


76  WAYS  AND  MEANS 

to  its  expenses.  Although  fortunate  educationally,  it 
proved  embarrassing  financially  that  the  old  inex- 
pensive and  ineffective  system  of  medical  instruction  by 
didactic  lectures  broke  down  at  about  this  time  and  had 
to  be  replaced  by  the  infinitely  more  expensive  type  of 
instruction  by  laboratory  and  clinic. 

In  spite  of  a  special  guarantee  fund,  generously  pro- 
vided by  Mr.  Low  and  others,  nearly  $850,000  had  to  be 
advanced  between  1894  and  1906  from  the  endowment  of 
the  University,  or  borrowed,  to  meet  the  annual  defi- 
ciencies incurred  for  interest  and  for  educational  devel- 
opments. In  1902  came  the  opportunity  to  buy  the  ur- 
gently needed  South  Field — two  city  blocks  to  the  south 
of  the  original  purchase — at  a  cost  of  about  two  and  a 
quarter  million  dollars,  and  the  trustees  decided  that 
the  time  had  come  to  sell  a  part  of  their  Upper  Estate 
(the  old  Botanical  Garden),  which,  with  the  exception 
of  sixteen  lots  sold  early  in  Barnard's  administration  to 
provide  for  the  School  of  Mines,  their  predecessors 
had  with  providential  wisdom  and  courage  held  for 
nearly  a  century.  The  sale  of  lots,  which  went  on  from 
1903  to  1906,  netted  more  than  three  and  one-half  mil- 
lion dollars,  and  from  the  prices  realized  the  trustees 
felt  justified  in  increasing  the  ground  rent  upon  the 
remainder  of  the  property  as  the  leases  expired,  so  that 
the  net  income  from  the  reduced  holdings  ultimately 
exceeded  that  from  the  original  property.  This  caused 
a  protest  from  the  dwellers  on  the  property,  our  own 
alumni,  and  others,  many  of  whom  had  built  handsome 
houses  on  their  leaseholds,  and  involved  the  University 
in  tedious  litigation,  from  which  it  finally  emerged  vic- 
torious in  1911.  After  all,  the  first  responsibility  of  the 
trustees  was  not  to  the  tenants,  but  to  the  educational 
needs  of  the  institution,   and,   as  a  shrewd  financier 


SITES,  PAST  AND  PRESENT  77 

had  said  some  years  before  when  asked  for  a  contribu- 
tion, ' '  You  can 't  expect  outsiders  to  help  you  until  you 
administer  your  own  real  estate  in  a  businesslike 
way."  In  1909,  the  University  made  an  arrangement 
for  the  refunding  and  gradual  retirement  of  its 
remaining  debt  of  about  $3,000,000  in  annual  install- 
ments of  $100,000,  payable  from  the  income  in  rents 
from  the  Upper  Estate. 

For  the  first  time  in  fifteen  years  the  budget  of  the 
corporation  showed  a  surplus  for  1908-09,  but  with  calls 
on  all  hands  for  increased  expenditure  the  deficit  re- 
turned three  years  later  and  the  University  is  again 
in  extrema  spe  salutis,  and,  while  the  institution  con- 
tinues to  be  progressive,  such,  doubtless,  is  bound  to  be  its 
normal  condition. 

The  trustees  are  most  anxious  that  unnecessary  ex- 
penditures shall  not  cause  the  deficits  to  mount  up  un- 
duly. Last  year  they  asked  for  definite  recommendations 
from  schools  and  departments  as  to  ways  and  means  to 
reduce  our  expenditures.  As  would  probably  be  the  case 
at  any  other  institution  of  learning,  the  result  was  a 
series  of  interesting  suggestions  as  to  fields  in  which 
large  additional  funds  could  profitably  be  spent,  with 
here  and  there  a  proposal  for  some  saving  trivial  in 
amount.  After  all,  a  university  is  not  a  business  ven- 
ture, nor  are  professors  business  men.  A  certain  amount 
of  waste  seems  to  be  inevitable,  and  the  trustees  must 
see  to  it  that  the  amount  is  kept  as  low  as  possible. 

From  its  first  habitat  in  the  vestry  of  Trinity  Church, 
King's  College  soon  moved  to  a  beautiful  site  of  three 
acres  on  Murray  Street,  where  the  College  remained  for 
nearly  a  century  before  it  was  forced  northward  by  the 
growth  of  the  city  to  what  was  expected  to  be  a  very 


78  WAYS  AND  MEANS 

temporary  abiding  place  at  Forty-ninth  Street,  but  which 
was  destined  to  be  its  home  for  forty  years.  There  was, 
to  be  sure,  constant  talk  of  moving.  As  early  as  1817  an 
amalgamation  with  "Washington  College,  then  on  Staten 
Island,  was  considered  and,  later,  a  scheme  to  build  on 
the  Botanical  Garden  property  from  plans  to  be  drawn 
by  Richard  Upjohn.  From  1866  on,  the  trustees'  min- 
utes contain  constant  reference  to  plans  for  removal. 
In  1872,  the  alumni  favored  taking  the  undergraduate 
work  out  of  the  city  and  locating  it  in  the  country,  and 
later  in  the  same  year  property  was  purchased  for  the 
purpose  somewhat  farther  uptown  than  the  present  site. 
Expensive  buildings  were  erected  upon  the  Madison 
Avenue  property,  however,  and  Mr.  Low's  election 
found  Columbia  still  there,  greatly  overcrowded  and 
overflowing  across  Forty-ninth  Street  into  private 
houses.  He  recognized  the  impossibility  of  continuing 
under  existing  conditions  and  pointed  out  that  the  Col- 
lege had  three  choices:  to  move  the  entire  institution 
to  the  country,  to  separate  it  up  among  different  sites 
either  in  the  city  or  outside,  or  finally  to  find  a  suitable 
single  site  for  all  parts  on  Manhattan  Island.  The  adop- 
tion of  the  third  possibility  was  hastened  by  the  discov- 
ery and  suggestion  of  a  suitable  piece  of  land  by  Mr. 
John  B.  Pine,  of  the  board  of  trustees,  in  1891.  This 
site  was  on  high  ground,  overlooking  both  the  Hudson 
and  the  Sound,  running  north  from  One  Hundred  and 
Sixteenth  Street,  between  Amsterdam  Avenue  and 
Broadway,  and  containing  sixteen  acres.  The  property 
was  owned  by  the  New  York  Hospital  and  occupied  at 
the  time  by  the  Bloomingdale  Asylum  for  the  Insane. 
It  had  been  the  scene  of  patriotic  defenses  in  the  War 
of  1812  and  of  an  actual  battle  fought  by  Washington 
in  the  early  days  of  the  Revolution.    Indeed,  there  is  a 


SITES,  PAST  AND  PRESENT  79 

tradition  that  an  ancient  pine,  which  stood  until  1906, 
had  been  held  in  peculiar  veneration  by  the  Indians  of 
Manhattan  Island. 

The  decision  to  move  to  Morningside  Heights — the 
name,  by  the  way,  is  now  never  heard  except  in  certain 
college  songs — was  at  first  greeted  with  considerable 
alarm,  for  the  region  was  about  as  remote  and  inacces- 
sible as  Mt.  Kisco  is  to-day.  Indeed,  there  are  those 
still  living  in  the  neighborhood  who  remember  when  it 
was  usual  to  stay  overnight  when  one  went  down  to  the 
City.  With  the  exception  of  a  few,  however,  who  indeed 
are  still  unreconciled,  the  importance  and  wisdom  of 
the  decision  was  soon  generally  recognized.  The  pro- 
ject excited  great  popular  interest  and,  most  important, 
Teachers  College  and  Barnard  College  were  inspired  to 
buy  land  adjacent.  Indeed,  one  of  the  great  gifts  to 
Barnard  was  made  on  condition  that  the  building  for 
which  it  provided  should  be  located  within  a  thousand 
feet  of  the  University. 

The  new  site  was  not  to  come  into  the  possession  of 
the  University  until  October,  1894,  and  the  period  be- 
tween purchase  and  possession  was  wisely  employed  not 
only  in  raising  the  necessary  funds,  but  by  giving  care- 
ful consideration  to  an  architectural  scheme.  The  lack 
of  such  careful  planning,  not  only  for  the  present  but  for 
the  future,  is  only  too  evident  in  the  appearance  of 
most  American  institutions  of  learning.  The  ultimate 
decision  lay  between  a  Gothic  scheme  recommended  by 
Charles  C.  Haight  of  the  class  of  1861,  the  designer  of 
two  beautiful  buildings  at  Forty-ninth  Street — ^now, 
alas,  destroyed — and  a  Renaissance  scheme  recommended 
by  Charles  F.  McKim  and  his  partners.  The  plans  of 
the  latter  were  adopted  and  Mr.  McKim 's  devoted  share, 
until  his  death  in  1909,  toward  making  the  University 


80  WAYS  AND  MEANS 

what  it  is  to-day  is  recorded  in  the  inscription  placed  in 
his  honor  in  South  Court:  De  super  artificis  spectant 
monumenia  per  annos. 

The  first  cornerstone  to  be  laid  was  that  of  the  Library 
in  1895.  A  year  and  a  half  later,  the  site  itself  was 
formally  dedicated  in  the  presence  of  five  thousand 
people.    President  Low  said  on  this  occasion : 

*  *  We  are  met  to-day  to  dedicate  to  a  new  use  this  his- 
toric ground.  Already  it  is  twice  consecrated.  In  the 
Revolutionary  War  this  soil  drank  the  blood  of  patriots, 
willingly  shed  for  the  independence  of  the  land.  Since 
then  for  three  generations  it  has  witnessed  the  union 
of  science  and  of  brotherly  kindness,  devoted  to  the  care 
of  humanity,  suffering  from  the  most  mysterious  of  all 
the  ills  that  flesh  is  heir  to ;  to-day  we  dedicate  it  in  the 
same  spirit  of  loyalty  to  the  country,  and  of  devotion 
to  mankind,  to  the  inspiring  use  of  a  venerable  and  his- 
toric University." 

The  other  component  parts  of  the  present  University 
have  had  many  homes.  The  Law  School  has  had  four, 
the  Medical  School  six,  the  College  of  Pharmacy  eight; 
Barnard  was  bom  and  spent  her  babyhood  in  a  rented 
house  on  Madison  Avenue,  and  Teachers  College  hails 
from  University  Place. 

After  the  complicated  and  tedious  processes  of  re- 
moval, the  University  was  finally  opened  in  the  new 
home  on  October  14,  1897.  Of  the  present  eighteen 
buildings  of  the  corporation,  but  six  had  been  erected 
and  two  of  the  asylum  buildings  were  also  used  for  aca- 
demic purposes. 

I  was  a  senior  at  the  time  and  well  remember  our 
mixed  emotions,  into  which  entered  a  sense  of  grandeur 
and  confusion,  of  the  smell  of  plaster  and  muddy  foot- 
paths, of  magnificent  but  inconvenient  distances  between 


a 
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31 


THE  CENTRAL  GROUP  81 

classrooms,  and  memories  of  the  crowded  but  convenient 
and  familiar  home  we  had  left.  "We  found  the  situation 
as  remote  as  did  our  academic  predecessors  in  1857,  when 
they  moved  to  a  new  home  that  "  lay  between  the  Pot- 
ter's Field  and  the  Bull  Pen."  The  previous  occupancy 
of  the  land  as  an  asylum  recalled  the  old  joke  about 
Columbia  being  the  home  of  the  deaf,  dumb,  and  blind 
(in  1857  the  Forty-ninth  Street  property  had  been  oc- 
cupied by  an  institution  for  deaf  mutes  and  by  a  sash 
and  blind  factory).  The  Grant  Monument,  recently 
dedicated,  was  until  then  the  only  attraction  to  induce 
the  world  to  make  the  inconvenient  trip  up  to  these 
remote  regions.  The  University  was  followed,  however, 
by  the  Cathedral  of  St.  John  the  Divine,  the  Union  Theo- 
logical Seminary  and  other  public  institutions,  including 
schools  of  music  and  art.  Churches  have  sprung  up  and 
apartment  houses  by  the  hundred.  The  subway  and 
electric  cars  and  omnibuses  have  almost  succeeded  in 
making  it  "  downtown."  The  district  still  retains  an 
atmosphere  of  its  own,  however,  figuratively  and  liter- 
ally. No  one  coming  up  from  lower  New  York  can  fail 
to  be  impressed  by  the  difference  in  the  quality  of  the 
air  as  he  leaves  the  Subway  at  One  Hundred  and  Six- 
teenth Street. 

In  the  words  of  a  visiting  French  journalist,  Colum- 
bia has  not  alone  its  lecture  halls  and  laboratories,  but 
its  churches,  libraries,  physicians,  gardens,  post-office, 
telegraph  stations,  barber  shops,  dining  and  living  halls, 
service  buildings.  "It  is  not  a  university,"  he  ex- 
claimed to  the  readers  of  the  Matin,  "it  is  a  city!  " 
Speaking  statistically,  the  University  Corporation  occu- 
pies at  One  Hundred  and  Sixteenth  Street  twenty-six 
and  a  quarter  acres,  at  Fifty-ninth  Street  a  little  more 


82  WAYS  AND  MEANS 

than  two.  The  Barnard  property  is  just  about  four 
acres,  and  that  of  Teachers  College  three  and  a  half, 
plus  fifteen  acres  at  Van  Cortlandt  Park  and  two  city  lots 
at  the  Speyer  School  site  in  Manhattanville.  The  Col- 
lege of  Pharmacy  occupies  three  lots  at  Sixty-eighth 
Street.  Outside  of  the  city  there  are  583  acres  at  Camp 
Columbia,  for  engineering  students,  at  Morris,  Conn., 
and  426  acres  at  the  farm  at  Pishkill,  N.  Y. 

The  total  number  of  academic  buildings — so  far  as 
one  can  separate  them,  for  particularly  at  the  Medical 
School  and  Teachers  College  they  run  into  one  another 
in  a  confusing  way — is  forty-five. 

The  University  buildings  are  of  a  classic  style,  em- 
bodying, however,  the  principles  of  the  early  masters 
of  the  Renaissance.  The  central  feature  of  the  archi- 
tectural scheme  is,  of  course,  the  magnificent  Library, 
200x200  feet  and  134  feet  high.  Its  base  line  is  just 
150  feet  above  the  Hudson.  This  building  of  gray 
limestone,  with  its  commanding  dome  and  noble  portico, 
was  recently  included  in  a  contest  of  architects  among 
the  five  most  beautiful  buildings  in  America,  the  only 
buildings  receiving  more  votes  being  the  National  Cap- 
itol, the  Public  Library  and  Trinity  Church  of  Boston, 
and  the  Congressional  Library,  A  striking  note  of  unity 
is  achieved  through  the  fact  that  the  other  buildings  of 
the  group  have  all  the  same  base  line  as  the  Library, 
and  the  same  cornice  line  sixty-nine  feet  above.  The 
bases  of  the  other  buildings  are  of  light  granite,  with 
upper  stories  of  Indiana  limestone  and  brick  of  rich  and 
varying  shades.  The  entrance  to  all  the  buildings  is  from 
the  campus,  not  from  the  street. 

The  main  axis  of  the  group  runs  north  from  the 
Library  through  the  still  incomplete  and  unsightly  Uni- 
versity Hall,  which  contains  the  gymnasium,  the  com- 


THE  CENTRAL  GROUP  83 

mons,  and  the  central  heating  and  lighting  plant,  on 
into  the  Green.  To  the  south,  it  runs  through  the  spa- 
cious South  Court  (which  provides  a  fitting  approach 
to  the  Library),  across  One  Hundred  and  Sixteenth 
Street  and  the  athletic  field  and  tennis  courts  of  South 
Field.  At  right  angles  to  this  axis  are  three  supple- 
mentary axes  defined  by  buildings  running  east  and 
west.  The  beautiful  St.  Paul's  Chapel,  recalling  the 
early  Renaissance  churches  in  Northern  Italy,  and  Earl 
Hall,  the  students'  building,  flank  the  Library.  To  the 
north,  Schermerhorn,  for  natural  science,  and  Have- 
meyer,  for  chemistry,  each  200  feet  by  80,  flank  Uni- 
versity Hall.  Upon  a  lower  level,  and  between  this  line 
of  buildings  and  Teachers  College,  across  One  Hundred 
and  Twentieth  Street,  is  the  University  Green  of  about 
three  acres.  To  the  south  of  the  Library,  the  One  Hun- 
dred and  Sixteenth  Street  axis  is  defined  by  beautiful 
buildings,  each  about  200  feet  by  53,  upon  three  of  the 
corners — Hamilton  for  the  College,  Kent  for  law  and 
political  science,  and  Journalism. 

The  whole  scheme  is  bound  together  by  an  outer  line 
of  intervening  buildings,  which  run  north  and  south 
upon  the  avenues.  North  of  One  Hundred  and  Sixteenth 
Street  are  four  academic  buildings,  each  about  150  feet 
by  60:  Engineering  and  Mines  on  the  Broadway  side 
and  on  Amsterdam  Avenue  Fayerweather,  for  physics, 
and  Philosophy,  which  also  houses  the  advanced  work 
in  letters.  The  lines  are  carried  southward  by  three 
dormitory  buildings,  each  137  feet  by  60,  Hartley  and 
Livingston  on  Amsterdam,  and  Furnald  on  Broadway. 
Inner  buildings,  facing  north  and  south,  are  included 
in  the  architectural  scheme,  and  one,  for  the  Avery 
library  and  architecture,  has  been  erected,  completing, 
with  Schermerhorn,  Fayerweather,  and  the  Chapel,  the 


84  WAYS  AND  MEANS 

first  of  the  four  smaller  quadrangles  for  which  the  plans 
ultimately  call.  Underground,  all  the  buildings  are  con- 
nected by  a  system  of  tunnels,  through  which  water, 
heated  air,  gas,  and  electricity  are  distributed. 

Across  Amsterdam  Avenue  lies  the  recently  purchased 
East  Field,  on  which  the  only  buildings  thus  far  erected 
are  the  cancer  research  laboratories  and  the  handsome 
President's  House.  This  latter  was  included  in  the 
original  plans,  but  had  to  wait  nearly  twenty  years  for 
erection.  Now  that  the  growth  of  the  city  has  blotted 
out  the  outlook  upon  the  Hudson  to  the  west,  one  of 
our  valued  academic  possessions  is  the  fine  view  from 
the  President's  House  over  Morningside  Park,  across 
the  city,  and  to  the  hills  of  Long  Island. 

In  comparing  the  architecture  of  Columbia  with  that 
of  any  one  of  the  rural  institutions  which  pays  intel- 
ligent attention  to  its  architecture,  say  Princeton,  one 
is  struck  with  the  compactness  of  the  former  scheme. 
This  is,  of  course,  symptomatic  of  the  enormous  cost 
of  land  on  Manhattan  Island.  The  fact  that  Columbia 
could  depend  for  her  architectural  effects  neither  upon 
great  space  nor  upon  any  striking  configuration  of  the 
ground,  as  is  the  case  at  "Wisconsin  and  California  and 
Cornell,  accounts  for  its  second  characteristic,  the  un- 
usually close  uniformity  of  the  buildings. 

The  scheme  was  at  first  regarded  by  not  a  few 
critics  as  unnecessarily  expensive,  cold,  and  formal. 
The  high  cost  of  the  buildings  was  undoubtedly  a 
severe  temporary  handicap,  the  great  expense  of  each 
unit  postponing  sometimes  for  years  the  adequate  sup- 
port of  important  parts  of  university  work.  The  build- 
ings were  likened  to  a  tomb  among  factories,  and  the  dor- 
mitories were  later  dubbed  the  Columbia  prisons.  The 
plan  suffered  from  having  to  go  into  effect  in  so  incom- 


THE  CENTEAL  GROUP  85 

plete  a  form.  One  was  forcibly  reminded  of  a  small  boy 
who  had  lost  his  first  teeth  and  had  attained  only  three  or 
four  of  his  second  set.  "With  time,  however,  has  come 
a  vindication  of  the  original  conception.  As  the  later 
buildings  rose  in  their  places,  each  improved  the  gen- 
eral appearance.  This  is  true  even  of  the  inner  build- 
ing, Avery,  which  many  had  feared  would  crowd  the 
campus  unduly.  Mr.  Brunner,  who  designed  the  Mines 
Building,  and  Messrs.  Howells  and  Stokes,  the  archi- 
tects of  the  Chapel,  succeeded  in  retaining  the  general 
harmony  without  losing  their  own  individuality,  and 
indeed,  the  chief  architects,  Messrs.  McKim,  Mead,  and 
"White,  not  only  made  Hamilton,  Kent,  and  Avery  far 
more  beautiful  buildings  than  the  earlier  Sohermer- 
horn  and  Engineering,  but  introduced  a  pleasing  variety 
in  detail  in  the  newer  buildings,  which  has  done  much 
to  soften  the  original  severity. 

Any  plan  of  smaller  and  cozier  buildings  would  have 
to-day  been  overwhelmed  by  the  apartment  houses  tow- 
ering on  all  sides,  if  indeed  the  growth  in  student  num- 
bers had  not  already  forced  reconstruction  or  renewal. 
The  large  scale,  furthermore,  provides  for  spacious  and 
striking  interior  effects.  Very  few  academic  interiors 
in  the  world  can  compare  in  beauty  with  the  vestibules 
of  Journalism  or  Fumald,  the  reception  rooms  in  the 
President's  House,  the  trustees'  room  with  its  beautiful 
oak  wainscoting,  or  the  reading  rooms  of  Avery  and 
Kent.  The  latter  indeed,  two  hundred  feet  long  and 
lined  with  books,  has  caused  one  of  the  law  professors 
to  say  that  he  has  given  up  golf  now  that  his  legal  re- 
searches furnish  all  the  exercise  that  he  needs.  Finest 
of  all  are  the  soaring  interiors  of  St.  Paul's  Chapel  and 
the  Library,  the  former  in  warm  and  harmonizing  shades 
of  brown  and  buff,  and  the  latter  green  and  gray  and 


86  WAYS  AND  MEANS 

blue.  Out  of  doors  the  old  note  of  bareness  has  gone 
■with  the  growth  of  ivy  and  the  careful  horticultural 
development  of  the  grounds,  and  the  many  beautiful 
gifts  that  have  come  as  class  memorials  and  in  other 
ways.  Our  site  may  lack  the  distinction  which  has  come 
with  centuries  of  care  and  of  gentle  decay  to  Oxford 
and  Cambridge,  but  we  may  well  be  proud  of  not  a 
few  of  our  vistas,  as,  for  example,  that  down  Milbank 
Quadrangle  to  the  Barnard  buildings,  or  across  the 
Green  to  the  Gothic  turrets  of  Union  Seminary,  or, 
finally,  the  view  under  the  trees  from  the  Faculty  Club 
across  South  Court,  with  its  ancient  yews  and  its  foun- 
tains, to  the  statue  of  Alma  Mater  and  the  f  agade  of  the 
Library. 

Outside  the  general  architectural  scheme  are  the  Fac- 
ulty Club  and  East  Hall,  relics  from  the  Bloomingdale 
days,  a  small  observatory,  and  a  greenhouse.  There 
are  also  four  private  houses  north  of  East  Fjeld — the 
Deutsches  Haus,  the  Maison  Frangaise,  and  homes  for 
the  Chaplain  and  College  Dean.  There  is  a  fine  boathouse 
on  the  Hudson,  and  in  the  plans  of  the  trustees  and  the 
hopes  of  the  undergraduates  lies  a  stadium  to  be  erected 
upon  an  athletic  field  to  be  reclaimed,  when  funds 
are  available,  from  the  waters  of  the  river,  which  are 
providentially  shallow  along  shore  at  One  Hundred  and 
Sixteenth  Street. 

Across  Broadway  from  the  central  group  are  the 
Barnard  College  buildings,  which  were  designed  by  Hugh 
Lamb  and  Charles  A.  Rich.  They  are  on  a  slightly 
smaller  scale  and  their  terra-cotta  trimmings  make  them 
more  ornate,  but  they  harmonize  well  with  the  University 
buildings.  At  the  northern  end  of  the  Barnard  prop- 
erty, Milbank,  Brinckerhoff,  and  Fiske  lie  ou  three  sides 


OTHER  BUILDINGS  87 

of  a  pleasant  court.  At  the  southern  end  of  the  inter- 
vening Milbank  Quadrangle,  which  extends  for  three 
city  blocks,  is  Brooks,  a  beautifully  designed  and  deco- 
rated dormitory  for  women.  Barnard  has  ambitious 
plans  for  additional  buildings  to  complete  the  Milbank 
Quadrangle,  and  fortunately  the  outlook  for  their  early 
construction  is  bright. 

The  rapid  growth  of  Teachers  College  has  filled  the 
city  block  to  the  north  of  the  Green  almost  solidly  with 
buildings  by  various  architects  and  of  varying  archi- 
tectural success.  The  Main  Building — ^the  first  aca- 
demic structure,  by  the  way,  to  be  erected  at  Morning- 
side,  in  1894 — Milbank,  which  contains  a  beautifully 
decorated  chapel,  a  memorial  from  the  donor  of  the 
building,  Joseph  Milbank,  to  his  parents,  and  the  ad- 
mirably equipped  Thompson  Physical  Education  Build- 
ing, all  face  One  Hundred  and  Twentieth  Street.  On 
the  One  Hundred  and  Twenty-first  Street  side  are  the 
Macy  Manual  Arts  Building  and  the  most  recent  struc- 
ture of  the  group.  Household  Arts,  singularly  successful 
in  the  combination  of  large  windows  and  abundant  sun- 
shine, with  good  architectural  effect.  On  Broadway  is 
the  handsome  building  of  the  Horace  Mann  School,  and 
on  Amsterdam  Avenue  a  combined  women's  dormitory 
and  apartment  building.  In  addition,  Teachers  College 
has  half  a  mile  to  the  north  the  Speyer  Building,  com- 
bining a  demonstration  and  experiment  school  and  a 
social  center.  It  is  also  developing,  near  Van  Cortlandt 
Park,  a  plot  of  fifteen  acres,  recently  purchased,  partly 
for  school  purposes  and  partly  for  faculty  and  student 
residence. 

The  best  buildings  at  the  site  of  the  College  of  Phy- 
sicians and  Surgeons  are  on  Tenth  Avenue,  between 
Fifty-nintb  Stj-eet  and  Sixtieth  Street: — the  handsome 


88  WAYS  AND  MEANS 

and  excellently  equipped  Sloane  Hospital,  with  173  beds 
for  women  and  100  cribs  for  infants,  and  the  Vanderbilt 
Clinic.  Three  of  the  four  other  buildings,  lying  to 
the  east  of  these,  were  put  up  just  before  the  change 
already  mentioned,  from  the  didactic  to  the  laboratory 
and  clinical  method  in  the  teaching  of  medicine,  and  as 
a  result  are  none  too  well  adapted  to  their  present  pur- 
poses. Leaving  the  question  of  architectural  beauty 
aside,  there  is  a  certain  resemblance  between  the  build- 
ings and  equipment  of  the  College  of  Physicians  and 
Surgeons  and  that  of  some  of  the  more  progressive  col- 
leges of  Oxford.  In  both  there  is  much  admirable  mod- 
ern equipment,  upon  which  the  observer  comes  unex- 
pectedly in  inconvenient  locations. 

"Whether  the  present  home  of  the  "P.  &  S.,"  as  it 
is  affectionately  called,  is  to  be  changed  is  a  moot  ques- 
tion. East  Field  was  purchased  primarily  to  bring  the 
Medical  School  into  the  University  group,  but  the  Sloane 
Hospital  and  Vanderbilt  Clinic  and  the  recent  alliance 
with  the  Presbyterian  Hospital  are  strong  anchors  to 
hold  the  school  downtown,  and  for  the  present,  at  any 
rate,  plans  for  removal  have  been  postponed. 

The  College  of  Pharmacy  occupies  an  ornate  Re- 
naissance building  on  Sixty-eighth  Street,  near  Broad- 
way, specially  constructed  and  well  equipped  to  meet 
its  particular  needs. 

To  complete  the  catalogue  of  buildings,  one  must 
mention  the  farmhouses  at  Fishkill  and  the  fourteen 
buildings  that  go  to  make  up  the  equipment  of  Camp 
Columbia  for  engineering  students  in  the  Connecticut 
Hills,  near  Litchfield. 

King's  College  had  rather  a  notable  collection  of  books, 
including  a  complete  collection  of  the  publications  of  the 


THE  LIBRARIES  89 

Oxford  Press.  Perhaps  a  hundred  of  these  early  vol- 
umes still  remain  on  the  shelves,  the  others  were  lost 
or  destroyed  during  the  Revolution.  Seventy-five  years 
later  the  library  had  not  yet  recovered  from  these  losses, 
the  collection  being  then  a  small  and  inaccessible  af- 
fair of  about  15,000  volumes,  under  the  sole  care  of 
an  officer  whose  salary  was  $300.  In  1881,  however, 
Stephen  Whitney  Phcenix,  '59,  bequeathed  his  library 
of  7,000  valuable  volumes,  and  two  years  later  a  pro- 
fessional librarian,  the  enthusiastic  Melvil  Dewey,  was 
appointed,  who  in  a  single  year  increased  the  circula- 
tion of  books  fivefold.  During  Dewey's  three  years  of 
service  many  books  were  bought  and  a  short-lived  school 
of  library  economy  was  founded. 

At  Barnard's  death  the  library  had  about  one  hundred 
thousand  books.  Mr.  Low  gave  particular  attention  to 
its  development,  the  new  men  called  to  the  faculties 
called  vigorously  for  books,  and  the  collection  from  then 
on  has  grown  rapidly,  until  at  present  the  University 
possesses  some  five  hundred  and  thirty  thousand  vol- 
umes and  one  hundred  thousand  pamphlets,  including 
sixty  thousand  doctor's  dissertations.  The  various  cata- 
logues contain  a  much  larger  total  of  cards,  descriptive 
and  analytical.  The  library  counts  to  the  full  upon  the 
opportunities  furnished  by  the  other  collections  in  the 
city,  particularly  the  public  library,  and  it  has  funher- 
more  a  system  of  borrowing  and  lending  rare  books  with 
university  and  other  libraries  outside  of  New  York. 

James  H.  Canfield,  who  was  librarian  from  1900  to  his 
death  ten  years  later,  gave  particular  attention  to  effi- 
ciency of  service  and  used  to  boast  that,  while  it  required 
two  days  to  get  a  book  in  a  German  and  two  hours  in  an 
English  university,  at  Columbia  it  took  but  two  minutes. 
The  library  staff  is  now  greater  than  was  the  entire 


90  WAYS  AND  MEANS 

teaching  staff  of  the  institution  thirty-five  years  ago. 

Like  every  other  progressive  institution,  Columbia  is 
struggling  with  the  problem  of  combining  a  centralized 
administrative  control  with  professorial  initiative  in 
purchases,  and  with  the  distribution  of  books  and  du- 
plicate catalogue  cards  to  those  points  all  over  the 
buildings  where  they  will  be  of  the  greatest  actual  serv- 
ice to  students  and  officers.  The  problem  is  incapable  of 
an  ideal  solution.  Although  the  librarian,  for  example, 
is  not  afraid  to  purchase  several  copies  of  standard 
books  to  supply  the  departmental  libraries,  forty-three  in 
all,  he  cannot  with  his  limited  funds  do  this  in  the  case 
of  expensive  but  much  used  journals. 

This  question  of  limited  revenue  is  a  very  serious  one, 
and,  unless  through  special  endowment  or  otherwise  the 
library  can  receive  a  very  much  larger  income,  it  must 
expect  to  lose  its  present  high  position  among  university 
collections.  A  professor  recently  called  from  one  of  the 
newer  State  universities  complained,  with  no  small  bit- 
terness, that  the  allowance  for  books  in  his  particular 
field  was  five  times  as  great  there  as  at  Columbia. 

Although  the  library  cannot  afford  to  be  in  the  market 
for  rare  and  beautiful  books  as  such,  not  a  few  of  these 
have  come  through  gifts,  including  several  illuminated 
manuscripts  and  two  hundred  and  fifty  incunabula.  It 
has  also  some  valuable  autograph  material,  including  the 
correspondence  of  DeWitt  Clinton,  and  an  extraordinary 
collection  of  newspaper  clippings  relating  to  the  Civil 
War.  The  interesting  and  rapidly-growing  collection  of 
Columbiana  has  been  of  much  service  in  the  preparation 
of  this  volume.  Through  the  generous  co-operation  of 
friends,  notably  the  late  J.  Pierpont  Morgan,  and  Alfred 
White,  the  library  has  been  able  to  supplement  its  own 
QjoUections  and  to  arrange  in  recent  years  for  many 


THE  LIBRARIES  91 

public  exhibitions,  usually  held  in  connection  with  some 
anniversary  celebration. 

The  practical  usefulness  of  the  library  depends  in 
large  measure  upon  the  separate  school  and  departmental 
collections.  The  most  sumptuous  is  the  Avery  Library 
for  Architecture  and  the  Allied  Arts,  a  memorial  to  a 
young  architect,  Henry  Ogden  Avery,  who  died  in  1890. 
The  nucleus  was  his  own  collection  of  books,  which,  it 
is  interesting  to  remember,  was  deposited  at  Columbia 
because  his  parents  wished  the  collection  to  be  available 
to  practicing  architects  and  draftsmen,  and  Columbia's 
was  at  the  time  the  only  library  open  in  the  evening. 
Through  the  generous  and  intelligent  support  of  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Avery,  the  nucleus  has  grown  to  be  one  of 
the  great  fine  arts  collections  in  the  world,  with  21,784 
volumes  and  with  its  own  special  building  erected  by  Mr. 
S.  P.  Avery  in  1912  as  a  memorial  to  his  brother  and 
his  parents.  The  Bryson  Library  at  Teachers  College 
of  nearly  one  hundred  thousand  volumes  is  one  of  the 
best  collections  of  educational  works  in  existence.  The 
Law  Library  of  about  fifty  thousand,  on  the  other  hand, 
has  been  running  behind  through  insufficient  support. 
The  alumni  of  the  Law  School,  however,  are  now  inter- 
esting themselves  in  its  improvement.  The  collection  at 
the  Medical  School  has  recently  been  enriched  by  the 
personal  collection  of  the  late  Dr.  E.  G.  Jane  way  and  by 
the  support  of  Mrs.  Russell  Sage.  Barnard  has  a  good 
working  collection,  largely  supported  by  her  alumnaB. 
For  the  undergraduates  there  is  a  college  study  in  Ham- 
ilton, and  similar  provision  is  made,  for  the  students  of 
Journalism. 

In  general,  each  department  and  laboratory  has  its 
own  special  reading  room,  with  books  at  hand  for  imme- 
diate and  informal  use.    Some  of  these  are  unusually 


92  WAYS  AND  MEANS 

well  equipped,  as  for  example  the  biological  collection 
given  by  the  late  Charles  H.  Senff,  the  George  Rice 
Carpenter  Memorial  Library  for  English,  and  an  ex- 
traordinary collection  of  books  presented  by  the  Chinese 
Government  in  recognition  of  the  establishment  of  the 
Dean  Lung  Professorship,  one  of  the  many  endowments 
which  the  University  owes  to  General  H.  W.  Carpentier 
of  the  Class  of  '48. 

Perhaps  this  is  not  a  strictly  logical  place  to  speak 
of  the  books  and  articles  going  out  from  the  University 
as  contrasted  with  those  coming  in,  but,  until  some 
device  is  found  for  the  presentation  of  printed  mate- 
rial in  two  or  three  dimensions  instead  of  the  one  to 
which  we  are  at  present  limited,  is  such  a  thing  as  a 
really  logical  arrangement  possible? 

The  University  Bibliography  for  1912  contains  sixty- 
four  closely  printed  pages.  Including  the  prolific  Teach- 
ers College,  it  records  sixty-nine  general  series  and 
thirty-one  departmental  bulletins  and  series.  Alumni 
and  student  publications  number  nineteen,  some  of  the 
latter,  by  the  way,  being  of  real  scholarly  importance, 
as  for  example  the  Columiia  Law  Review.  The  personal 
bibliography  of  the  professors  fills  fifty  closely  printed 
pages. 

There  had  been  an  occasional  broadside  list  of  the 
students  of  King's  College,  but  the  first  annual  cata- 
logue was  printed  by  the  janitor  in  1848.  Last  year, 
beside  school  and  divisional  bulletins  aggregating  1,789 
pages,  there  was  printed  a  catalogue  of  626  pages,  a 
list  of  officers  and  alumni  of  1,151  pages,  and  a  volume 
of  Annual  Reports  of  352  pages.  This  last  shares  with 
the  University  Quarterly  the  important  function  of  re- 
vealing the  University  to  its  own  members,  as  well  as 


PUBLICATIONS  93 

to  the  public  at  large.  Since  Barnard's  first  report,  the 
president's  own  contributions  to  this  volume  have  always 
been  of  importance,  but  the  supplementary  material,  in- 
cluded since  1880,  had  been  rather  perfunctory  until  in 
1900,  through  its  frank  discussion  of  larger  problems 
and  forecasts  of  the  future,  rather  than  devotion  to  tech- 
nical details  of  registration  and  the  like,  the  first  re- 
port of  Teachers  College  set  a  model  which  later  reports 
from  deans  and  other  administrative  officers  have 
followed. 

The  Columbia  University  Press,  founded  in  1893,  has 
published  175  volumes,  many  of  them  of  distinct  im- 
portance to  scholarship.  Its  most  ambitious  project  is 
a  complete  collection  of  the  works  of  John  Milton,  now 
being  prepared  under  the  editorial  supervision  of  Pro- 
fessor Trent,  A  University  Bookstore  under  the  aus- 
pices of  the  Press  has  been  maintained  since  1898. 

In  1890,  there  appeared  a  Bulletin, '  *  issued  by  author- 
ity ' '  and  singularly  unattractive  in  appearance.  It  was 
principally  a  rehash  of  the  college  regulations  and 
abstracts  from  the  records  of  the  trustees'  meetings.  Its 
issue  was  irregular  and  there  were  no  editorials  until 
1895.  Three  years  later  the  University  Press  took  over 
the  publication,  and  in  1898  it  appeared  as  the  Columbia 
University  Quarterly.  To-day  the  Quarterly  is  one  of 
the  standard  publications  of  its  type.  It  contains  more 
than  five  hundred  pages  annually  and  is  admirably 
illustrated.  While  special  issues  dealing  comprehensively 
with  some  particular  field  of  University  activity  are  an 
important  feature,  a  broad  editorial  policy  does  not  con- 
fine the  articles  and  editorials  to  matters  dealing  nar- 
rowly with  Columbia's  immediate  interests. 

Of  the  University  journals  and  series,  the  only  ones 
antedating  Mr.  Low 's  inauguration  are  the  Political  Sci- 


94  WAYS  AND  MEANS 

ence  Quarterly,  a  journal  of  international  influence, 
dating  from  1886,  and  the  School  of  Mines  Quarterly, 
from  1881.  The  Educational  Review  began  in  1890,  as 
did  the  Studies  in  History,  Economics,  and  Public  Law. 
Of  later  publications  one  of  the  most  important  is  the 
Bomanic  Review.  Teachers  College,  which  has  its  own 
publication  office,  maintains  not  only  the  Teachers  Col- 
lege Record,  established  in  1900,  but  the  Columbia  Uni- 
versity Contributions  to  Education,  1906,  and  other  im- 
portant series. 

Not  so  many  years  ago  it  would  have  been  appropriate 
and  easy  to  classify  the  general  equipment  of  an  edu- 
cational institution  as  library,  museum,  fine  arts  col- 
lections, and,  perhaps  least  important,  laboratories  or 
cabinets,  as  they  were  then  called ;  to-day,  however,  labor- 
atories are  not  confined  to  natural  philosophy,  but  are 
being  established  for  history,  politics,  statistics,  and 
journalism.  Books  are  '*  tools,"  and  museums  have  be- 
come teaching  collections.  The  well-equipped  Deutsches 
Haus  and  Maison  Frangaise  are  not  merely  libraries  or 
museums,  but  are  working  instruments  of  culture  of  a 
new  and  important  type. 

In  general,  the  Columbia  equipment  is  for  use  rather 
than  for  show,  and  anything  that  is  not  in  frequent  use 
is  not  provided,  if  it  is  available  elsewhere  in  the  city. 
Although  one  piece  of  laboratory  equipment  dates 
back  to  King's  College,  a  telescope  borrowed  and  used 
by  George  Washington,  the  real  development  of 
the  laboratories  began  with  the  removal  to  the  present 
site,  the  crowded  conditions  at  Forty-ninth  Street 
making  much  growth  there  impossible.  The  present 
mechanical  engineering  laboratory  is  vast  enough  to 
make  a  full-sized  locomotive  appear  no  larger  than  nor- 


LABORATORIES  AND  COLLECTIONS        95 

mal,  and  others  are  in  proportion.  In  general,  though 
not  uniformly,  the  equipment  is  adequate.  The  equip- 
ment for  natural  science  at  Barnard  College  is  particu- 
larly good  and  the  household  arts  laboratories  of  Teach- 
ers CoUege  supply  the  last  word  in  their  new  fields  of 
study.  Much  of  the  University  laboratory  equipment, 
and  far  from  the  least  useful,  is  home-made ;  this  is  no- 
tably true  in  mining.  Certain  departments  owe  their 
equipment  to  special  gifts,  as  for  example  the  Phcenix 
laboratories  for  physics,  the  Worthington  and  AUis  labo- 
ratories in  mechanical  engineering,  the  recently  opened 
Nichols  laboratory  for  chemistry,  and  those  for  experi- 
mental surgery  and  cancer  research. 

Gymnasiums  are  to-day  regarded  as  laboratories  for 
physical  education.  The  University  gymnasium  was  the 
first  of  the  great  academic  structures  for  this  purpose, 
and  is  still  in  the  front  rank.  Physical  education  is  pre- 
scribed for  the  younger  students,  and  the  annual  use  of 
the  gymnasium  and  swimming  pool  is  more  than  eighty 
thousand.  The  more  recent  Thompson  Building  at 
Teachers  College  is  lavishly  equipped  for  research  in 
physical  education. 

When  Arnold  Bennett  visited  Columbia  not  long  ago, 
what  seemed  to  interest  him  the  most  was  the  sight  of 
a  Chinese  student  in  the  modern  history  **  laboratory," 
collecting  clippings  from  German  papers  about  the  war 
between  Italy  and  Turkey.  Through  the  aid  of  a  former 
Tammany  chieftain,  Patrick  McGowan,  a  politics  labo- 
ratory has  been  well  equipped,  and  laboratory  work  is 
also  being  done  in  statistics,  legislative  drafting,  and 
perhaps  most  notably  in  journalism,  where  the  * '  cubs, ' ' 
among  other  tasks,  are  required  to  watch  a  moving- 
picture  reel  and  then  to  describe  what  they  have  seen. 

At  Columbia  there  is  no  general  policy  with  regard 


96  WAYS  AND  MEANS 

to  the  collection  of  scientific  equipment  in  museums  and 
elsewhere,  this  being  left  primarily  to  individual  or 
departmental  initiative.  The  only  general  University 
policy  is  a  negative  one  of  an  unwillingness  on  the  part 
of  the  trustees  to  duplicate,  beyond  small  teaching  col- 
lections, the  wealth  of  the  public  and  available  private 
museums  of  the  city.  The  Torrey  Herbarium  dates  from 
1860,  and  Kutherfurd's  Photographic  Star  Plates  come 
shortly  afterwards.  Both  of  these  are  of  genuine  scien- 
tific value  and  both  were  prepared  and  given  by  trustees. 
The  Chandler  Chemical  Museum  and  the  Egleston  Min- 
eralogical  Museum  had  their  beginnings  in  Barnard's 
time.  Besides  these,  perhaps  the  most  significant  mu- 
seums are  those  of  anatomy,  recently  made  available 
for  teaching  and  exhibition  purposes  by  the  gift  of  Ed- 
ward S.  Harkness  (to  whom  the  University  is  also 
largely  indebted  for  the  financial  provisions  for  the  re- 
cent alliance  with  the  Presbyterian  Hospital),  the  Edu- 
cational Museum  of  Teachers  College,  and  a  Dramatic 
Museum  designed  to  stand  in  the  same  relation  to  the 
arts  of  the  drama  as  the  Avery  Library  stands  to  those 
of  the  architect,  decorator,  and  landscape  architect.  In 
the  Students'  Building  is  a  museum  sui  generis,  the  ath- 
letic trophy  room,  which  contains  among  other  treasures 
the  shell  of  1878,  the  only  one  in  which  an  American 
crew  ever  won  a  race  at  Henley. 

The  devoted  custodian  of  the  Avery  Library,  Mr.  B. 
R.  Smith,  has  made  a  catalogue  of  the  fine  arts  collec- 
tions of  the  University,  which  contains  a  surprisingly 
large  number  of  items.  Practically  all  have  come  by 
gift,  subject  since  1898  to  the  approval  of  an  advisory 
committee  on  art.  In  addition  to  $150,000  for  an  ath- 
letic field  and  towards  a  memorial  hall,  and  in  addition 


St.  Paul's  Chapel 


LABORATORIES  AND  COLLECTIONS        97 

also  to  numberless  direct  gifts  to  needy  students,  to 
fraternities,  athletics,  and  other  student  enterprises, 
alumni  subscriptions  have  provided  most  of  these  ob- 
jects of  art.  They  have  usually  been  class  memorials 
and  include  portraits,  busts,  gates  and  other  ornamental 
iron  and  bronze  work,  stained  glass,  clocks,  and  even  a 
spherical  sundial.  As  the  list  in  the  Appendix  will  show, 
these  alumni  gifts  include  also  loan  and  scholarship 
funds,  gifts  of  books  and  scientific  equipment,  and,  at 
Barnard  College  particularly,  of  shrubs  and  trees. 

The  sculpture  possessed  by  the  University,  more  than 
one  hundred  pieces  in  all,  includes  French's  Statue  of 
Alma  Mater,  Barnard's  Great  God  Pan,  Partridge's 
Alexander  Hamilton,  and  examples  of  the  work  of 
Saint-Gaudens,  Ward,  Couper,  and  Chaplin.  There  are 
also  good  copies  of  classical  statues,  for  which  the 
University  is  indebted  to  Dr.  J.  Ackerman  Coles,  '64, 
and  others.  By  order  of  the  trustees,  by  gift,  and  in 
other  ways,  we  have  come  to  possess  a  large  collection 
of  portraits,  scattered  through  various  buildings,  of 
Columbia  dignitaries,  by  various  hands  and  of  varying 
merit.  These  paintings  include  works  of  Copley,  Van- 
derlyn,  Trumbull,  Ingham,  Eastman  Johnson,  Daniel 
Huntington,  and,  among  later  men,  of  Irving  Wiles, 
F.  D.  Millet,  W.  T.  Smedley,  Sargent  Kendall,  Muller- 
Ury,  and  J.  W.  Alexander. 

The  corridors  of  the  Barnard  and  Teachers  College 
buildings  have  for  some  years  had  a  good  collection  of 
engravings,  photographs,  and  casts,  and,  through  under- 
graduate gifts,  Hamilton  Hall  is  gradually  acquiring  an 
excellent  collection  of  engravings  for  its  walls. 

There  are  several  good  pieces  of  stained  glass,  the 
most  striking  being  the  LaFarge  windows  in  St.  Paul's 
Chapel.    Indeed,  all  the  equipment  of  the  Chapel,  from 


98  WAYS  AND  MEANS 

the  Italian  chancel  furniture,  and  the  fine  organ,  (pre- 
sented by  George  Foster  Peabody  and  Charles  Peabody,) 
down  to  the  minutest  details,  were  selected  with  the 
greatest  care  and  insight,  and  as  a  whole  and  in  all  its 
parts  the  Chapel  is  one  of  the  most  precious  artistic 
possessions  of  the  University. 

Much  attention  has  been  given  not  only  to  the  words, 
but  to  the  form  of  the  inscriptions  upon  the  buildings, 
and  no  more  beautiful  example  of  an  academic  inscrip- 
tion can  be  found  than  that  upon  the  portico  of  the 
Library : 

KINGS  COLLEGE  POUISTDED  IN  THE  PROVINCE  OP  NEW  YORK 

BY  ROYAL  CHARTER  IN  THE  REIGN  OF  GEORGE  II 

PERPETUATED    AS   COLUMBIA    COLLEGE   BY   THE   PEOPLE   OP 

THE  STATE  OP  NEW  YORK 

WHEN  THEY   BECAME  FREE   AND   INDEPENDENT 

MAINTAINED  AND  CHERISHED  PROM  GENERATION  TO 

GENERATION 

FOE    THE   ADVANCEMENT    OP    THE    PUBLIC    GOOD    AND    THE 

GLORY  OP   ALMIGHTY   GOD 

MDCCCXCVI 

That  extreme  care  in  such  matters  is  well  worth  while 
may  be  illustrated  from  some  of  the  inscriptions  as  they 
were  originally  drawn.  In  the  inscription  over  the  door 
of  Earl  Hall,  for  example,  the  most  conspicuous  line,  as 
originally  sketched  on  the  stone,  read,  "  Erected  that 
religion  and  learning  may  go,"  but  that  they  were  to 
go  **  hand  in  hand,"  was  made  clear  only  by  a  rearrange- 
ment of  the  lines.  Similarly,  the  text  from  St.  Paul, 
"  Whom  therefore  ye  ignorantly  worship.  Him  declare 
I  unto  you,"  etc.,  was  first  laid  out  so  that  all  that  could 
readily  be  seen  was  "  Ignorantly  worship  Him." 


IV 
EDUCATIONAL  ORGANIZATION 

Graduate  Faculties.  Columbia  College.  Barnard  College.  Law, 
Mines,  Engineering,  Chemistry.  Medicine.  Architecture.  Teach- 
ers College.  Pharmacy.  Journalism.  Summer  Session.  Extension 
Teaching.     Departments  and  Divisions. 

Before  a  brief  summary  of  the  different  schools  of  the 
University  is  given,  the  reader  is  again  reminded  that 
the  plan  of  this  book  is  to  emphasize  the  whole  institu- 
tion rather  than  its  separate  parts,  and  also  that  those 
things  which  are  characteristic  of  American  colleges 
and  professional  schools  in  general  are  omitted.  If,  for 
instance,  the  Law  School  is  dismissed  with  a  page  or  so, 
it  is  not  because  the  Law  School  is  not  an  admirable 
institution  with  hopes  for  the  future  as  high  as  its 
past  has  been  distinguished,  which  is  saying  not  a 
little. 

The  heart  of  a  university,  indeed  what  makes  it  a 
university,  lies  in  the  work  of  pushing  out  the  frontiers 
of  knowledge.  It  was  primarily  with  this  work  in  view 
that  Columbia  has  developed  what  are  very  inaccurately 
known  as  its  non-professional  graduate  schools.  In  the 
first  place,  they  are  not  the  only  schools  in  the  University 
for  which  a  college  degree  is  required,  and  more  impor- 
tant they  are  not  and  can  never  be  strictly  non- 
professional. It  is  fortunately  less  true  than  formerly, 
but  is  still  controlling  for  a  majority  of  students,  that 
the  only  way  open  for  the  scholar  to  make  a  living  is 
to  teach,  and  therefore  these  schools  inevitably  take  to 
themselves  the  aspect  of  professional  schools  for  the 

99 


100  EDUCATIONAL  ORGANIZATION 

training  of  teachers.  It  would  be  as  difficult,  further- 
more, as  it  would  be  unprofitable,  to  press  to  a  logical 
conclusion  the  distinction  between  professional  and  non- 
professional in  the  subjects  of  study  themselves.  Every 
fruitful  field  of  study  rightly  tends  to  connect  itself 
more  and  more  closely  with  some  profession.  To  name 
but  a  few,  philosophy  and  psychology  shade  into  edu- 
cation, English  into  journalism,  political  science  into 
law,  physics  into  engineering,  biology  into  medicine. 
One  of  the  most  important  functions  of  these  schools 
lies  in  broadening  and  liberalizing  the  work  of  the  pro- 
fessional schools  and  inspiring  them  with  the  spirit  of 
research,  while  on  the  other  hand  the  presence  of  the 
professional  schools  is  a  constant  and  necessary  stimulus 
to  them. 

The  existence  at  Columbia  of  three  separate  faculties 
— of  Political  Science,  Philosophy,  and  Pure  Science — is 
based  upon  historical  rather  than  upon  logical  grounds, 
and  was  the  result  of  having  to  cope  not  with  a  theory, 
but  with  actual  conditions  of  human  jealousy  and  ri- 
valry. Although  Barnard  had  urged  the  graduates  of 
the  College  "  to  enter  a  path  to  which  so  few  are  spon- 
taneously inclined,  the  path  of  independent  investigation 
with  a  view  to  enlarging  the  bounds  of  knowledge, ' '  and 
though  he  persuaded  the  trustees  to  establish  fellow- 
ships, little  in  the  way  of  organized  advanced  work  was 
accomplished  until  in  1881,  on  the  initiative  of  Professor 
Burgess,  the  School  of  Political  Science  was  established, 
"  designed  to  supplement  the  courses  in  Private  Law 
with  those  studies  in  Ethics,  History,  and  Public  Law 
necessary  to  complete  the  science  of  jurisprudence.'*  Its 
faculty  has  always  been  a  powerful  element  in  the  Uni- 
versity policies.  For  nearly  a  quarter  of  a  century  it 
was  small  and  compact,  and  because  of  this  and  of  the 


GRADUATE  FACULTIES  101 

fondness  of  its  members  for  tobacco,  it  was  known  to 
the  students  as  the  **  nicotine  ring."  About  1904  came 
a  rapid  growth  in  its  membership  to  include  the  newer 
developments  of  social  science,  and  a  close  alliance  was 
formed  with  the  New  York  School  of  Philanthropy. 

The  first  great  victory  of  the  "  University  Party," 
after  President  Low's  election,  was  the  creation  in  1890 
of  a  Faculty  of  Philosophy.  It  is  characteristic  of 
the  brevity  of  an  academic  generation  that  of  this  origi- 
nal faculty  but  a  single  member  is  to-day  in  teaching 
service.  Two  years  later  the  new  university  spirit  had 
sufficiently  overcome  the  old  jealousies  to  permit  the 
establishment  of  a  Faculty  of  Pure  Science,  composed 
at  first  almost  exclusively  of  professors  in  the  School 
of  Mines,  with  one  man  from  the  Medical  School  and  two 
new  appointees  in  zoology.  Later  came  many  new  ap- 
pointments at  Morningside,  closer  relations  with  the 
School  of  Medicine  and  with  the  museums  of  the  city. 

The  professional  relations  of  the  Faculty  of  Political 
Science  have  been  largely  with  the  Law  School,  those 
of  the  Faculty  of  Philosophy  with  Teachers  College,  and 
those  of  the  Faculty  of  Pure  Science  with  Medicine  and 
Engineering. 

Under  the  eye  of  the  University  Council,  and  with  no 
undue  pressure  to  secure  uniformity  as  to  details,  the 
three  faculties  went  their  several  ways,  leaving  the  de- 
partments generally  in  control  of  individual  students, 
until  the  day  arrived  in  1909  when  it  was  possible  to 
unite  them  by  the  appointment  of  the  senior  dean,  Pro- 
fessor Burgess,  to  serve  as  the  dean  of  all  three.  Since 
then  more  attention  has  been  given  to  the  actual  organi- 
zation of  the  advanced  work ;  and  also  to  the  apparently 
insoluble  problem  of  defining  where  the  jurisdiction  of 
the  department  ends  and  that  of  the  faculty  begins.    The 


102  EDUCATIONAL  ORGANIZATION 

actual  administration  is  unified  by  means  of  a  joint 
committee  on  instruction  which,  as  the  retiring  dean  has 
pointed  out,  is  an  institution  as  unknown  to  the  law  of 
the  University  as  the  cabinet  of  the  president  is  un- 
known to  the  constitutional  law  of  the  nation,  but  in 
its  modest  sphere  equally  as  effective. 

Owing  to  the  slowly  dying  doubts  of  our  fathers  as 
to  the  capacity  of  the  female  mind,  the  matter  of  ad- 
vanced instruction  for  women  has  furnished  one  of  the 
most  complex  problems  in  the  development  of  these 
schools.  A  woman  student  received  the  degree  of  doctor 
of  philosophy  in  mathematics  in  1886,  but  it  was  not 
until  some  years  later  that  women  who  had  already  re- 
ceived the  bachelor's  degree  began  to  apply  in  numbers 
for  admission.  They  were  at  first  permitted  to  enter 
University  classes  under  the  non-committal  title  of 
auditors,  were  examined  as  Barnard  College  students, 
and  received  degrees  on  the  formal  recommendation  of 
the  Barnard  faculty.  The  appointment  by  Barnard 
College,  beginning  in  1895,  of  productive  scholars  of 
distinction  competent  to  offer  courses  which  the  men  stu- 
dents desired  was  made  the  basis  by  President  Low,  who 
had  personally  provided  the  funds  for  two  of  these  ap- 
pointments, of  urging  the  graduate  faculties  to  give 
more  generous  treatment  to  women  students,  and  five 
years  later  women  holding  the  first  degree  were  admit- 
ted to  graduate  courses  as  regular  students  of  the  Uni- 
versity. The  close  relations  between  the  so-called  gradu- 
ate faculties  and  the  professional  schools  of  medicine,  law, 
and  engineering,  which  do  not  admit  women  students — 
professional  and  non-professional  students  frequently  at- 
tending the  same  classes — still  hampers  the  women  in 
certain  fields,  but  in  general  their  opportunity  for  gradu- 
ate work  is  now  as  broad  as  that  of  the  men. 


GRADUATE  FACULTIES  103 

The  degree  of  Ph.D.  has  been  conferred  in  the  United 
States  for  about  fifty  years.  For  many  years  Colum- 
bia's contributions  to  the  list  of  doctors,  though  some- 
times individually  important,  were  few  in  number.  The 
broadened  opportunities  coming  after  1890,  and  particu- 
larly the  establishment  of  twenty-four  fellowships,  soon 
brought  about  a  change,  and  Columbia  has  conferred 
more  doctorates  than  any  American  university  within 
the  past  sixteen  years,  over  seven  hundred  in  all.  The 
master's  degree,  which  nominally  requires  one  year  of 
residence  instead  of  three,  is  even  more  popular,  and  more 
than  five  hundred  masters  were  created  at  the  commence- 
ment of  1913. 

The  total  registration  of  these  three  schools  is  by  far 
the  largest  in  the  United  States,  the  gross  registration  for 
1912-13  being  2,241.  It  is  significant  of  the  close  inter- 
relations between  the  different  parts  of  the  University 
that,  of  these  students,  445  were  also  registered  in  pro- 
fessional schools  of  the  University,  168  in  theological 
schools  or  the  School  of  Philanthropy,  and  83  were  junior 
officers.  In  considering  these  large  numbers,  it  must  be 
remembered  that,  owing  to  its  position  in  the  city  of 
New  York,  the  University  attracts  to  its  graduate  schools 
a  large  number  of  teachers  in  active  service  and  others 
who  can  give  but  a  part  of  their  time  to  study,  a  class 
including  representatives  both  of  the  best  and  of  the 
worst  type  of  student  in  the  graduate  schools. 

The  distribution  of  students  among  subjects  is  more 
even  at  Columbia  than  is  often  the  case.  In  more  than 
sixteen  different  departments  there  are  twenty-five  stu- 
dents or  more  offering  a  major  subject.  Classified  by 
divisions  in  the  order  of  student  preference,  political 
science  leads,  followed  by  the  modern  languages,  edu- 
cation, philosophy,  biology,  and  chemistry. 


104  EDUCATIONAL  ORGANIZATION 

The  immense  numbers  and  the  fact  that  students  are 
attracted  to  these  schools  for  reasons  as  wide  apart  as 
the  poles  mean  that  the  problems  of  their  administra- 
tion are  destined  to  be  difficult  and  pressing  for  many- 
years  to  come.  Under  the  new  dean,  Professor  F.  J.  E. 
Woodbridge,  they  are  being  grappled  with  fearlessly  and 
intelligently.  It  is  recognized  that  admission  to  can- 
didacy to  a  higher  degree  should  depend  not  merely  upon 
college  graduation,  but  upon  special  preparation  for 
advanced  work  in  some  particular  field,  a  very  difficult 
matter  to  ascertain  in  advance.  Many  of  those  admitted 
even  under  these  conditions  should  be  weeded  out  be- 
fore the  final  examination,  when  the  temptation  to  be 
kind  usually  overcomes  the  duty  to  be  stem.  Progress 
will  be  slow  and  painful,  furthermore,  while  identical 
machinery  is  used  to  deal  with  the  school  teacher  whose 
promotion  depends  upon  the  acquisition  of  a  master's 
degree,  with  professional  students  desiring  to  broaden 
their  horizon,  and  with  the  many  who  are  desirous  and 
the  few  who  are  capable  of  devoting  their  lives  to  the 
increase  of  the  world 's  store  of  worth-while  knowledge. 

To  the  inquirers  of  1857,  one  frank  critic  stated  that 
in  reality  Columbia  College  was  little  more  than  an  ap- 
panage to  the  more  popular  grammar  school.  The  gram- 
mar school,  however,  departed  and  the  College  remains. 
Thirty  years  later  the  College  had  apparently  become 
something  like  a  vermiform  appendix  in  the  organiza- 
tion of  professional  schools,  and  Barnard  had  come  re- 
luctantly to  the  conclusion  that  the  public  interest  de- 
manded the  giving  up  of  undergraduate  work.  A  mem- 
ber of  the  Faculty  of  Political  Science  has  told  me  that, 
if  it  had  not  been  for  the  support  of  that  faculty  at  a 
critical  moment,  Columbia  College  would  have  ceased 


COLUMBIA  COLLEGE  105 

to  exist.  To-day  the  College  is  recognized  as  having 
an  essential  function  in  the  work  of  the  University.  It 
is  growing  rapidly,  having  now  more  than  nine  hundred 
students.  Though  closely  allied  to  the  graduate  schools 
through  the  departmental  organization,  and  to  the  pro- 
fessional schools  through  the  combined  courses,  it  has 
nevertheless  retained  its  own  personality.  It  enjoys  at 
the  same  time  the  stimulus  which  comes  to  teacher  and 
student  alike  from  contact  with  men  of  world-wide  re- 
nown and  with  a  strong  body  of  professional  and  gradu- 
ate students.  Its  individuality  has  been  emphasized 
since  1907  by  the  possession  of  its  own  building.  Before 
that  time  French  had  been  taught  in  the  bookstore, 
English  and  mathematics  in  the  physics  building,  his- 
tory next  the  lunchroom,  and  its  official  home  was  in  a 
dark  and  dismal  basement.  A  test  of  the  present  vital- 
ity of  the  College  is  its  ability  to  absorb  into  the  student 
life  each  year  a  larger  number  of  students  admitted  to 
the  upper  classes,  proportionately  to  the  total  registra- 
tion, than  any  other  institution  of  the  country. 

Never  has  a  college  been  more  frequently  pulled  up 
by  the  roots.  Between  1763,  when  Myles  Cooper  revised 
the  curriculum  to  make  it  correspond  with  that  of  his 
own  Oxford  college,  until  1905,  when  the  minimum  re- 
quirements still  in  force  were  adopted,  the  records  show 
no  fewer  than  eleven  revisions  of  its  program.  Most 
of  them,  since  the  premature  experiment  of  1857,  have 
been  backings  and  fillings  as  to  the  elective  system.  The 
revision  of  1905,  based  upon  a  study  started  by  Presi- 
dent Butler's  first  report,  was  more  fundamental,  since 
it  defined  the  University  policy  as  to  the  combination 
of  collegiate  and  professional  school  work,  and  placed  the 
emphasis  in  college  work  upon  quality  rather  than  on 
time  spent  in  residence.    Columbia  was  one  of  the  first  to 


106  EDUCATIONAL  ORGANIZATION 

adopt  the  principle,  at  present  widely  followed,  of  giving 
extra  credit  in  some  form  or  other  for  high  standing  and 
a  corresponding  penalty  for  too  great  a  number  of  low 
passing  grades.  The  earnest  student  found  a  new  in- 
centive for  good  work,  and  what  is  perhaps  equally  im- 
portant, in  view  of  the  manifold  temptations  for  soldier- 
ing that  beset  the  modem  collegian,  the  idler  discovered 
that  the  opportunity  for  lax  scholarship  had  been  very 
much  curtailed. 

Proposals  have  since  been  made  for  further  radical 
changes  in  the  program,  which  includes  a  consider- 
able core  of  prescribed  work  in  language,  mathematics, 
science,  history,  and  philosophy.  A  careful  analytical 
study  of  the  actual  performance  of  the  last  senior  class, 
however,  undertaken  at  the  behest  of  the  faculty,  shows 
that  the  proportion  of  students  continuing  subjects  be- 
yond a  prescribed  course  is  large  enough  to  disprove 
the  argument  that  a  prescribed  course  per  se  makes 
the  subject  distasteful  and  discourages  its  further  pur- 
suit. It  shows,  further,  that  the  proportion  of  students 
who  carry  elective  courses  in  a  given  field  beyond  two 
terms  is  high  enough  to  disprove  the  charge  that  there 
is  any  general  tendency  towards  scattering.  And, 
finally,  the  study  makes  clear  that  the  student  generally 
chooses  wisely  as  to  the  subjects  upon  which  to  con- 
centrate. 

It  may  be  stated  as  a  general  principle  that  the  more 
a  faculty  actually  knows  about  the  students  and  their 
interests  the  less  likelihood  there  is  of  elaborate  revisions 
based  upon  a  priori  reasoning. 

In  Columbia  College,  English  is  by  far  the  most  gen- 
erally followed  subject,  with  one-fifth  of  the  total  regis- 
tration. The  next  is  physical  education,  prescribed  for 
underclassmen,  and  then  follow  in  the  order  named 


COLUMBIA  COLLEGE  107 

history,  mathematics,  philosophy,  Romance  and  Germanic 
languages,  chemistry,  politics,  Latin,  and  psychology. 

Within  recent  years  the  College  administration  has  de- 
voted its  attention  particularly  to  efficiency  in  teaching, 
to  personal  care  for  all  students,  and  to  the  administra- 
tion of  the  spirit  rather  than  the  letter  of  the  law.  In 
general,  less  attention  has  been  paid  to  the  minimum  re- 
quirements and  more  to  furnishing  opportunities  for  the 
exceptional  student. 

Since  1906  an  attempt  has  been  made  to  limit  the  mem- 
bership of  the  faculty  to  the  men  primarily  engaged 
in  college  teaching,  but  for  historic  and  sentimental 
reasons  this  has  as  yet  been  but  imperfectly  accom- 
plished. 

In  his  recent  **  swing  "  around  the  academic  circle, 
one  of  the  things  that  impressed  Dr.  Slosson  most 
vividly  was  the  general  waste  of  time  and  energy  in  the 
ordinary  collegiate  instruction.  Much  has  been  accom- 
plished at  Columbia  to  improve  conditions  in  these  re- 
gards since  the  organization  in  1907  of  a  committee 
on  instruction  of  the  faculty.  Under  the  leadership 
of  its  first  chairman,  the  late  Professor  G.  R.  Carpen- 
ter, who  literally  gave  his  life  to  this  work,  a  largely 
successful  struggle  was  maintained  with  departments 
whose  primary  interests  were  in  advanced  work.  Small 
sections,  carefully  planned  courses,  and  intelligent  grad- 
ing for  college  students  were  insisted  upon,  and  a  de- 
vice for  a  logical  and  honest  check  on  absences  was  dis- 
covered. There  is  always  a  danger  lest  the  newer  forms 
of  study  which  relate  to  the  intellectual  development 
of  mankind  make  too  light  a  demand  upon  the  student's 
mental  activity.  A  definite  attempt  has  been  made  to 
increase  this  demand  without  overloading  the  course 
with  trivial  and  uninteresting  drudgery.    That  the  at- 


108  EDUCATIONAL  ORGANIZATION 

tempt  has  not  been  altogether  unsuccessful  is  shown 
by  the  senior  votes,  which  place  the  prescribed  course 
in  history  at  the  head  of  the  list  alike  for  difficulty 
and  for  general  usefulness.  That  the  successful  ex- 
perience of  the  natural  sciences  is  leading  to  the  use 
of  laboratory  methods  in  these  other  fields  has  already 
been  mentioned.  In  addition  to  its  work  with  the  depart- 
ments, the  committee,  of  which  the  dean  is  now  at  the 
head,  makes  a  careful  study  of  the  individual  pro- 
grams, prescribes  two  sequences  of  study  for  each 
student,  and  executes  a  rigorous  weeding  out  of  the 
unfit  and  the  idle.  It  is  often  a  real  kindness  to  a  boy 
to  bring  his  college  career  to  a  close.  One  is  reminded 
of  the  Delphic  saying  that  the  colleges  turn  out  some 
of  the  best  men  in  the  country.  The  important  thing 
is  to  be  sure  that  it  is  not  the  wrong  boy  who  is  turned 
out,  and  to  this  problem  the  committee  gives  careful 
attention.  The  grades  of  each  student  are  reported  fre- 
quently, are  watched  like  the  temperature  record  in  a 
hospital,  and  made  the  basis  not  only  for  official  warn- 
ing but,  what  are  usually  more  effective,  congratula- 
tions upon  improved  work. 

In  the  vigorous  words  of  the  president,  "  the  notion 
that  an  institution  of  learning  could  not  or  should  not 
concern  itself  with  the  character  and  conduct  of  the 
students  outside  the  classroom  or  off  the  campus  is  bosh ; 
all  of  the  boy  goes  to  college,  not  a  part  of  him  only," 
The  care  of  the  whole  student  is  fortunately  becoming 
typical  of  the  good  American  colleges  and  it  is  not 
necessary  to  go  into  particular  details  as  to  the  efforts 
made  to  that  end  at  Columbia.  The  professors  and  the 
dean  endeavor  to  be  available  at  all  times  to  the  students 
and,  of  the  5,700  visits  from  students  and  their  parents 
and  advisers  to  the  latter  last  year,  more  than  half  re- 


COLUMBIA  COLLEGE  109 

lated  to  matters  not  having  to  do  with  the  formal  cur- 
riculum. An  endeavor  is  made  also  to  learn  just  as 
much  as  possible  about  each  student.  The  careful  work 
of  the  committee  on  admissions  enables  the  dean  to 
start  with  a  fairly  complete  knowledge  of  what  the  boy- 
has  accomplished  at  school  and  what  his  teachers  think 
of  him,  and  his  record  at  college  is  checked  in  other 
matters  than  the  formal  grades.  The  negative  side  of 
student  records  is  often  of  considerable  importance. 
The  boy  who  is  not  in  any  fraternity  and  who  does  not 
belong  to  other  student  organizations,  who  is  the  only 
boy  from  his  particular  school,  is  pretty  sure  to  be  a 
lonely  boy  and  as  such  needs  all  the  care  the  college  can 
give  him.  It  is  regarded  as  the  duty  of  the  college  to 
see  that  the  choice  of  diversions  for  such  a  boy  is  not 
limited  to  the  unwholesome  and  unprofitable,  but  in- 
cludes also  the  wholesome  and  the  profitable. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  College  endeavors  not  to 
overdo  this  matter.  The  business  of  school  and  college 
education  is  the  making  of  boys  into  men  and,  as  in 
the  modern  practice  of  medicine,  the  job  is  best  done 
when  the  patient  does  most  of  it  himself.  The  impor- 
tant thing  is  to  develop  in  so  far  as  possible  the  stu- 
dent's own  sense  of  responsibility,  and  for  this  reason 
the  system  of  advice  to  students  at  Columbia  is  frankly 
an  insurance  that  each  student  has  someone  to  whom 
he  has  the  right  to  turn  if  he  cares  to  do  so,  rather 
than  a  system  of  close  supervision.  The  very  definite 
limit  as  to  the  amount  of  work  of  this  kind  that  a  fac- 
ulty can  be  counted  upon  to  do,  willingly  and  effi- 
ciently, is,  by  the  way,  an  important  factor  in  this 
matter  of  student  advisers. 

President  Lowell's  statement,  that  by  the  free  use  of 
competition   athletics  have   beaten   scholarship   out   of 


110  EDUCATIONAL  ORGANIZATION 

sight  in  the  estimation  of  the  community  at  large  and 
in  the  regard  of  the  college  student  body,  may  need  some 
qualification,  but  there  is  no  doubt  that  one  of  the 
things  for  a  live  college  to  do  is  to  devise  methods  of 
intellectual  competition,  and  particularly  such  methods 
as  will  not  only  hold  the  students  already  turned  to- 
wards scholarship,  but  will  entice  into  that  field  students 
not  already  interested  but  of  potential  capacity.  As 
early  as  1785  public  examinations  were  arranged  to 
which  the  men  of  letters  of  the  city  were  invited,  which 
**  should  encourage  the  industry  and  emulation  of  the 
students,"  and  honorary  premiums  were  distributed  to 
the  most  deserving.  The  revision  of  1810  was  for  the 
announced  purpose  of  enticing  to  laudable  emulation  no 
less  than  for  preventing  and  punishing  of  faults.  From 
then  on  various  devices  were  tried.  All,  however,  were 
directly  connected  with  the  regular  program  and,  as 
has  been  pointed  out,  a  subject  once  in  the  curriculum 
tends  to  lose  all  emotional  interest  for  the  student.  In 
1909,  the  committee  on  instruction  recommended  that 
the  College  should  profit  by  the  example  of  the  English 
universities,  where  it  seems  to  be  better  understood  that 
culture  is  one  of  those  things  which  may  be  and  usually 
is  lost  in  the  conscious  search  for  it.  Accordingly,  a 
program  was  devised  upon  which  the  student  could 
enter  at  the  end  of  his  first  year,  which  contained  much 
less  regular  work,  with  fewer  prescriptions  and  other 
regulations,  and  concentrated  the  student's  attention 
upon  two  or  three  subjects  for  which  much  outside  read- 
ing and  informal  conference  were  required.  Compre- 
hensive oral  examinations  upon  the  work  of  three  years 
were  established,  and  those  successfully  completing  this 
program  received  a  degree  with  honors.  The  system 
is  not  yet  in  permanent  working  form,  but  so  far  the  re- 


COLUIVIBIA  COLLEGE  111 

suits  have  been  most  promising.  The  number  of  stu- 
dents electing  to  study  for  honors  is  rapidly  increasing, 
and  there  is  no  doubt  as  to  their  intellectual  interest 
and  rivalry. 

In  view  of  the  present  rapid  rate  of  growth,  it  is  very 
possible  that  a  limitation  of  numbers  in  the  near  fu- 
ture will  enable  the  College  to  strike  a  more  defi- 
nite note.  While  doubtless  the  old  New  York  stock  will 
always  be  represented,  Columbia  is  not  likely  ever  again 
to  be  a  fashionable  college  per  se,  and  the  temptation  is 
lessening  to  make  it  too  much  like  every  other  college  in 
the  details  of  its  student  life  and  interest.  Efficient 
entrance  machinery  cuts  out  the  hopelessly  incompetent. 
The  different  strains  in  the  membership,  particularly 
the  boys  of  various  foreign  stocks,  the  influx  of  freshmen 
from  out  of  town,  and  the  students  from  other  colleges, 
all  unite  in  producing  the  social  diversity  which  is  a 
factor  often  unappreciated  in  college  life.  There  are 
those  who  believe  that  the  future  of  the  colleges  in  the 
urban  universities  will  lie  in  making  an  increasingly 
strong  appeal  not  to  all  boys,  but  to  the  boys  who  are 
willing  to  ask  frankly  the  question  as  to  what  one  pays 
for  the  luxury  of  country-club  existence,  who  have  no 
desire  to  prepare  themselves  for  a  career  of  being 
amused,  and  who  wish  to  begin  to  test  their  capacity 
with  rivals  of  like  mind  not  in  the  professional  or 
graduate  school,  but  in  the  college. 

The  present  registration  in  the  College  is  about  900, 
and  the  total  number  of  living  alumni  more  than  2,800. 

To  the  students  of  educational  history  no  part  of 
Columbia  University  will  be  of  greater  interest  than 
Barnard  College.  It  was  founded,  under  most  discour- 
aging conditions,  to  meet  a  real  need  of  the  community 


112  EDUCATIONAL  ORGANIZATION 

— a  first-rate  college,  primarily  for  the  girls  of  New 
York  City.  In  its  organization  to-day  it  is  furnishing 
a  model  to  women's  colleges  all  over  the  country,  and 
particularly  in  the  Southern  States,  of  a  complete  and 
independent  college  as  an  integral  member  of  the  uni- 
versity organization.  The  policy  of  growth  by  treaty 
has  been  discussed  from  the  university  standpoint. 
From  the  point  of  view  of  the  independent  col- 
lege, it  cannot  be  better  set  forth  than  in  the  words 
of  the  present  Dean  of  Barnard,  Miss  Virginia  C. 
Gildersleeve : 

**  The  College  has  succeeded  to  a  considerable  extent 
in  creating  and  preserving  the  feeling  of  individuality 
and  personal  unity  characteristic  of  a  separate  college, 
and  at  the  same  time  profiting  by  the  inspiration,  the 
university  standards  of  scholarship  and  personnel,  and 
the  hundred  incidental  advantages  derived  from  mem- 
bership in  Columbia  University.  Our  individuality  as 
a  distinct  institution  gives  us  an  advantage,  I  think, 
over  the  women  undergraduates  in  the  great  coeduca- 
tional universities;  and  most  assuredly  our  connection 
with  Columbia  gives  us  an  advantage  over  the  separate 
women's  colleges.  Inconvenient  though  it  often  is  to 
have  our  finances  separate  from  those  of  Columbia, 
I  feel  that  on  the  whole  the  fact  of  our  distinct  charter 
and  corporation  is  valuable  in  that  it  aids  in  pre- 
serving for  us  a  sense  of  separate  individuality.  Were 
it  not  for  this  there  might  be  greater  danger  of  our 
being  absorbed  too  completely  in  the  vast  university 
machine. ' ' 

The  College  owes  its  existence  as  it  does  its  name 
to  the  brave  struggle  made  by  President  Barnard 
against  indifference  and  distrust  regarding  the  higher 
education  of  women.  The  movement  which  led  to  its 
actual  establishment  has  been  described  in  the  chapter 


o 
O 


BARNARD  COLLEGE  113 

upon  that  great  leader.  Shortly  before  his  death,  in 
1888,  the  original  niggardly  resolution  of  the  Columbia 
trustees,  which  it  will  be  remembered  made  no  provi- 
sion for  teaching  women  but  only  for  examination,  was 
broadened  to  authorize  the  establishment  of  an  actual 
institution  of  learning,  which  should  involve  Columbia 
in  no  pecuniary  responsibilities,  and  be  managed  by 
a  corporation  with  trustees,  constitution,  and  regu- 
lations to  be  approved  by  the  trustees  of  Columbia; 
which  might  have  buildings  for  instruction  only,  not 
for  residence;  whose  students  should  be  taught  exclu- 
sively by  professors  and  instructors  of  Columbia;  and 
whose  connection  with  Columbia  could  be  terminated 
if  unsatisfactory. 

It  was  not  a  very  generous  treaty  on  the  part  of 
the  trustees,  but  it  was  sufficient  for  the  purpose  and  a 
great  advance  upon  the  older  agreement.  The  prob- 
lem of  the  new  college,  which  was  founded  the  follow- 
ing year,  was  twofold :  to  recommend  itself  to  Columbia 
on  the  one  hand,  and  to  the  public  on  the  other.  To 
both  problems  the  trustees  and  teachers  set  themselves 
vigorously.  Their  success  in  the  former  was  shown  by 
the  willingness  of  the  University  to  entrust  the  College 
with  the  difficult  problem  of  graduate  instruction  for 
women,  while  its  own  faculties  were  being  educated 
up  to  the  point  of  taking  it  upon  themselves,  and  by 
the  agreement  of  1900,  whereby,  as  its  Provost  has 
pointed  out,  Barnard  became  no  longer  an  appanage, 
but  an  independent,  self-supporting  principality  in  a 
congress  of  states.  Since  1900  its  position  has  been 
unique  among  women's  colleges,  in  that,  while  independ- 
ent and  interested  in  its  own  welfare,  it  has  shared  the 
responsibilities  and  ideals  of  a  great  university.  The 
rapidity  of  this  development  is  shown  by  the  fact  that, 


114  EDUCATIONAL  ORGANIZATION 

of  more  than  one  thousand  alumnae,  all  but  a  score  are 
living. 

A  cynical  observer  of  the  higher  education  of  women 
has  said  that  apparently  Jack  and  Jill  must  be  edu- 
cated exactly  alike,  particularly  Jill.  Barnard,  how- 
ever, has  not  desired  nor  has  the  University  insisted 
upon  an  identity  between  its  program  and  that  of 
Columbia  College.  The  combined  college  and  profes- 
sional course  has  been  less  developed,  since  there  are 
at  present  fewer  opportunities  open  to  women  for 
professional  study.  A  start,  however,  has  been  made  at 
Teachers  College,  and  in  Journalism  and  Architecture. 
Further  development  is  a  problem  for  the  future,  both 
to  the  University  and  to  Barnard.  As  at  Columbia  Col- 
lege, a  revised  program  was  adopted  in  1905,  but, 
while  the  two  are  similar,  they  have  important  differ- 
ences. For  example,  the  B.S.  course  at  Barnard  is  more 
carefully  thought  out  and  more  thorough  in  its  em- 
phasis upon  laboratory  science  than  is  that  at  the  men 's 
college.  Like  Columbia,  Barnard  is  working  upon  the 
problem  of  emphasizing  distinction  in  study,  but  along 
different  lines. 

As  to  Barnard's  having  recommended  herself  to  the 
public,  there  can  be  no  question.  Under  the  leadership 
first  of  Miss  Ella  Weed  and  then,  from  1894  until  1900, 
of  Miss  Emily  James  Smith  (Mrs.  George  Haven  Put- 
nam) and  Miss  Laura  D.  Gill,  1901-07,  the  growth  in 
numbers  has  been  steady  and  it  is  now  rapid.  There  are 
at  present  636  students.  It  has  been  pointed  out  that 
Barnard  can  never  be  like  a  large  country  college,  nor 
have  the  same  sort  of  college  life,  but  the  students  there 
feel  that  its  difference  from  other  girls'  colleges  is  in 
many  ways  a  thing  to  be  proud  of  and  that,  through  its 
contact  with  a  great  university  and  a  great  city,  it  can 


BARNARD  COLLEGE  115 

and  does  develop  as  fine  and  sane  a  student  life  as  can 
be  found  at  any  American  college.  The  prestige  of  the 
teachers  is  shown  by  the  constant  attempts  both  within 
and  without  the  University  to  steal  them  from  Barnard. 
Its  wealth,  as  has  been  shown  in  the  previous  chapter, 
has  grown  from  nothing  in  1889  to  $4,335,503.55  in  1913, 
and,  although  this  is  far  from  sufficient  to  meet  its  pres- 
ent needs,  Barnard  has  always  succeeded  in  getting  help 
when  she  needed  and  deserved  it,  so  that  there  is  every 
prospect  that  the  additional  funds  will  be  forthcoming. 
Indeed,  the  alumnae  are  at  present  vigorously  engaged 
upon  a  campaign  for  a  fund  of  two  million  dollars  for 
buildings  and  endowment  to  commemorate  the  twenty- 
fifth  birthday  of  the  College  in  October,  1914. 

In  the  teaching  of  law,  ' '  the  secreted  wisdom  of  hu- 
man society  applied  to  its  current  affairs, ' '  Columbia  was 
a  pioneer.  Chancellor  Kent 's  famous  Commentaries  were 
developed  from  his  lectures  to  her  students.  In  1859, 
Theodore  W.  Dwight,  one  of  the  great  teachers  of  all 
time,  founded  the  Columbia  Law  School.  Dicey  and 
Bryce  have  both  borne  witness  to  the  nation-wide  influ- 
ence of  this  extraordinary  man.  For  nearly  twenty  years 
he  gave  all  the  instruction  himself  and  took  upon  him- 
self all  financial  responsibility.  When  in  1876  the  trus- 
tees took  over  its  control,  there  were  in  the  Law  School 
no  fewer  than  573  students,  an  amazing  number  even 
for  days  when  there  were  no  entrance  examinations,  and 
when  graduation  was  equivalent  to  admission  to  prac- 
tice. The  march  of  progress,  however,  is  inexorable, 
overriding  the  views  of  any  one  man,  no  matter  how 
distinguished  in  personality  and  devoted  in  service,  and 
the  time  came  when  the  trustees  had  to  choose  between 
Professor  Dwight 's  method  of  teaching  law — which  de- 


116  EDUCATIONAL  ORGANIZATION 

pended  far  more  than  he  himself  realized  upon  his  own 
skill  and  personality — and  methods  more  in  accord  with 
modern  university  policies  and  aims.  Largely  upon  the 
initiative  of  Stephen  P.  Nash  of  the  Board  of  Trustees, 
and  against  Professor  Dwight's  judgment,  it  was  de- 
cided in  1888  to  lengthen  and  modify  the  course.  In 
1891,  Professor  Dwight  resigned  and  what  was  prac- 
tically a  new  school  was  organized  under  the  deanship 
of  Professor  Keener,  who  had  been  a  member  of  the  Har- 
vard law  faculty.  The  five  points  which  distinguished 
the  new  school  from  the  old  were,  first,  three  years  in- 
stead of  two;  second,  the  concurrent  pursuit  of  several 
subjects;  third,  a  distinct  increase  in  classroom  hours 
and  discouragement  of  outside  office  practice;  fourth, 
an  elective  system  of  study  in  the  upper  years ;  fifth,  the 
combination  of  public  and  private  law  and  provision  not 
only  for  teaching  but  for  research. 

The  changes  aroused  a  storm  of  protest,  particularly 
among  the  alumni  of  the  old  school,  who  were  to  a 
man  Professor  Dwight's  devoted  disciples,  and  the  new 
regime  started  with  a  heavy  handicap  of  unpopularity 
and  had  emphatically  to  justify  its  existence  to  the  com- 
munity. In  1899  it  had  obtained  a  sufficiently  strong 
position  to  decide  that,  from  1903  on,  admission  should 
depend  upon  at  least  three  years  of  college  work.  Be- 
ginning with  Professor  Keener 's  withdrawal  into  active 
practice  in  1901,  the  progress  of  the  school  was  checked 
by  a  number  of  changes  in  the  staff.  Far  more  than  in 
the  non-professional  faculties,  the  teachers  of  a  pro- 
fessional school,  particularly  one  in  a  large  city,  are 
under  constant  and  alluring  temptation  to  leave  the 
ranks,  and  the  peculiarly  personal  character  of  instruc- 
tion in  a  law  school  renders  it  important  that  its  even- 
ness and  continuity  should  not  be  broken  by  frequent 


LAW  117 

changes  in  the  corps  of  teachers.  Since  the  appointment 
in  1910  of  Harlan  F.  Stone,  the  first  graduate  of  the 
school  to  be  its  dean,  the  staff  has  been  permanent  and 
its  members  give  their  main  attention  to  law  teaching, 
with  the  result  that  the  school  has  grown  rapidly  in 
numbers  and  prestige,  and  will  doubtless  soon  have  to 
face  the  problem  of  limiting  its  numbers. 

Its  method  of  work  is  described  by  the  much  misunder- 
stood title  **  case  system."  Briefly  stated,  the  method 
consists  in  the  student's  working  out  for  himself,  under 
the  guidance  of  the  instructor,  the  principles  of  law  from 
decided  cases,  which  of  course  are  the  ultimate  authori- 
tative source  of  all  legal  principles.  Formal  lectures 
are  not  generally  given.  The  method  of  most  instruc- 
tion is  Socratic;  that  is  to  say,  the  principles  are  ex- 
tracted from  the  cases  by  the  student  under  the  more  or 
less  skillful  questioning  of  the  instructor. 

Owing  to  its  system  of  instruction,  its  cosmopolitan 
character,  and  its  close  touch  with  actual  professional 
conditions,  the  school  exerts  a  most  important  influ- 
ence upon  the  legal  profession  throughout  the  United 
States.  Less  than  half  of  the  472  students  are  registered 
as  from  New  York  City.  The  others  come  from  thirty- 
nine  different  States  and  four  foreign  countries.  The 
living  alumni  of  the  school  number  more  than  4,500. 

Perhaps  the  most  significant  single  difference  between 
the  universities  of  Germany  and  America  is  the  pres- 
ence here  of  engineering  and  the  engineering  type  of 
mind  among  teachers  and  students.  The  engineer  has 
been  called  the  dynamic  component  in  human  nature, 
the  new  force  which  is  accelerating  the  wheels  of  prog- 
ress, and  his  profession  has  been  termed  the  art  of 
directing  the  great  sources  of  power  in  nature  to  the  use 


118  EDUCATIONAL  ORGANIZATION 

and  convenience  of  man.  The  presence  at  Columbia  for 
half  a  century  of  both  professors  and  students  of  engi- 
neering has  certainly  had  a  very  great  influence  upon 
the  institution  as  a  whole. 

When  the  School  of  Mines,  the  first  of  its  kind  in 
this  country,  was  founded  in  1863,  three  young  enthusi- 
asts— Professors  Chandler,  Egleston,  and  Vinton — took 
the  entire  responsibility  for  its  finances.  To  the  original 
three  were  soon  added  certain  colleagues  from  the  Col- 
lege and  new  appointees,  notably  Professor  Trowbridge, 
who  served  as  professor  of  engineering  for  many  years. 
The  first  alumnus  to  receive  a  professorship  was  H.  S. 
Munroe,  still  in  service  as  the  senior  professor  in  the 
University. 

The  course  of  study,  which  was  characteristic  from 
the  first  in  being  composed  exclusively  of  professional 
subjects,  was  lengthened  from  three  years  to  four  in 
1868.  A  program  with  emphasis  on  metallurgy  was 
added  the  same  year.  A  course  leading  to  a  degree  in 
civil  engineering  was  established  a  year  later,  electrical 
engineering  in  1889,  mechanical  in  1897,  and  chemical 
in  1905,  a  modest  total  when  it  is  remembered  that 
there  are  twenty-seven  known  species  of  engineering 
degrees  conferred  in  the  United  States.  The  School 
of  Architecture  and  the  Faculty  of  Pure  Science,  both 
now  independent,  were  originally  founded  in  the  School 
of  Mines.  Among  the  650  and  more  students  to-day, 
the  most  popular  course  is  still  the  original  one,  that 
of  mining  engineering,  followed  in  order  by  civil,  me- 
chanical, chemical,  electrical,  and  metallurgical.  Me- 
chanical and  chemical  have  both  outstripped  electrical 
engineering  within  the  past  few  years,  and  at  present 
chemical  engineering  is  growing  most  rapidly.  From 
the  establishment  of  summer  work  in  mining,  in  1877, 


MINES,  ENGINEERING,  CHEMISTRY      119 

strong  emphasis  has  always  been  placed  upon  the  prao- 
tical  work  of  the  students,  and  a  vital  feature  of  the 
programs  of  all  candidates  for  an  engineering  degree 
is  the  summer  camp  of  surveying  at  Morris,  Conn., 
where  three  hundred  men  work  annually. 

Probably  the  first  example  of  taking  a  man  from  a 
purely  executive  post  and  appointing  him  to  a  position 
of  academic  responsibility  was  in  the  selection  in  1905 
of  the  Superintendent  of  Buildings  and  Grounds,  Mr. 
P.  A.  Goetze,  to  be  Dean  of  the  Faculty  of  Applied  Sci- 
ence. Under  the  new  leadership,  there  was  a  vigorous 
improvement  not  only  in  teaching,  but  in  clearing  out 
duplication  of  effort.  This  had  grown  up  through  the 
overlapping  of  the  several  engineering  fields,  until  no 
student  could  properly  perform  the  stated  requirements. 
These  were  first  simplified  and  then  honestly  adminis- 
tered. The  first  year's  work  in  the  different  courses 
was  made  uniform,  a  step  without  which  further  ad- 
vances could  not  have  been  taken.  The  next  step  was 
a  fundamental  one.  It  had  become  evident  that,  with 
the  rapid  growth  of  engineering  schools  based  upon  high- 
school  preparation,  Columbia's  best  contribution  to  the 
nation  would  be  in  the  special  type  of  instruction  which 
could  be  given  only  to  men  who  were  willing  to  lay  a 
broad  foundation  for  it.  After  careful  consideration, 
it  was  resolved  to  reduce  the  course  to  three  years,  but 
to  require  for  admission  a  preparation  of  at  least  three 
years'  serious  college  study,  in  which  fully  half  the 
time  should  be  devoted  to  sequential  work  in  the  under- 
lying subjects  of  mathematics,  physics,  and  chemistry, 
and  the  remainder  to  training  in  history,  philosophy, 
English,  and  modern  languages,  and  special  preparatory 
work  in  drafting  and  the  like.  Columbia  College  has 
organized   a  program  devised  to  meet  the  particular 


120  EDUCATIONAL  ORGANIZATION 

needs  of  this  plan,  which  is  to  go  into  effect  in  1915, 
upon  the  occasion  of  the  fiftieth  anniversary  of  the 
founding  of  the  School  of  Mines. 

There  is  considerable  rivalry  between  Columbia  and 
the  University  of  Pennsylvania  as  to  which  deserves  the 
honor  of  being  the  pioneer  in  medical  instruction  in 
America.  Apparently  King's  College  was  the  first  to 
organize  a  medical  department,  and  the  College  of  Phila- 
delphia the  first  to  grant  medical  degrees.  Our  medical 
department  was  resuscitated  with  the  academic  depart- 
mont  after  the  Revolution,  but  in  1807  an  independent 
College  of  Physicians  and  Surgeons  was  organized, 
which  soon  took  the  lead  from  the  older  school.  The 
two  were  merged  in  1813.  The  connection  with  Colum- 
bia was  re-established  loosely  in  1860  and  absolutely  in 
1891. 

Until  1887  the  College  had  a  strong  reputation  as  a 
first-rate  school  of  the  old  theoretical  type,  proprietary 
in  management,  and  with  haphazard  hospital  connec- 
tions. In  1887  came  the  generous  gift  of  the  Vander- 
bilt  family,  which  made  provision  for  laboratory  in- 
struction, and  three  years  later  the  merger  of  its  inde- 
pendent charter  with  that  of  Columbia  University. 
Scientifically  its  most  notable  achievement  had  been  the 
organization,  about  the  middle  of  the  century,  of  a 
department  of  physiology  under  John  C.  Dalton,  who 
was  the  pioneer  in  this  field  in  America,  and  a  depart- 
ment of  pathology  under  Francis  Delafield,  with  mod- 
est laboratories  supported  by  the  alumni. 

In  comparing  law  and  medicine,  it  should  be  remem- 
bered that  the  Law  School  is  approximately  what  it 
was  in  1895,  whereas  the  Medical  School  is  hardly  rec- 
ognizable as  the  same  institution.    Instead  of  being,  as 


MEDICINE  121 

the  records  seem  to  show,  one  hundrfe3  and  fifty  and 
sixty  years  old  respectively,  the  Columbia  Law  School 
is,  say,  twenty-one  or  twenty-two,  and  the  College  of 
Physicians  and  Surgeons  is  barely  ten.  Pedagogically 
speaking,  medicine  is  by  far  the  younger  and  less  de- 
veloped. 

Professor  Lee  has  defined  the  policy  of  the  College 
as  one  of  conservative  leadership,  and  the  conservative 
part  of  this  definition  was  never  more  clearly  felt  than 
in  the  decade  between  1890  and  1900,  when,  under  the 
terms  of  the  merger,  all  initiative  with  regard  to 
medical  matters  was  to  lie  not  in  the  trustees  of  the 
University,  but  in  the  faculty  of  medicine,  which  had 
come  over  intact  from  the  old  order.  The  dean,  Dr. 
J.  W.  McLane,  who  had  been  president  of  the  independ- 
ent College,  and  his  colleagues  were  satisfied  with  things 
as  they  were.  The  school  was  the  largest  in  the  coun- 
try, having  reached  its  maximum  membership  of  809 
in  1902.  In  spite,  therefore,  of  the  establishment  of 
the  Johns  Hopkins  Medical  School  and  a  much  needed 
local  rivalry  which  came  from  the  establishment  of  the 
Cornell  Medical  School  in  New  York  City  in  1898,  little 
was  done  until  the  end  of  the  ten-year  period.  The 
trustees  of  the  University  were  then  in  a  position  to 
take  hold  and,  against  the  recommendations  of  the  dean 
and  of  several  of  the  older  professors,  instituted  certain 
fundamental  changes  in  the  school,  in  order  to  bring 
about  the  change  from  the  old  teaching  of  medicine  to 
the  new.  This  change  has  been  summarized  as  follows : 
"  What  the  medical  student  got  at  his  school  in  the  old 
times  was  a  little  practical  knowledge  won  at  first  hand 
in  the  dissecting  room  and  at  the  bedside,  a  great  many 
talks  about  what  his  professors  had  seen  or  read  about, 
and  much  advice  about  what  he  had  better  do  under 


122  EDUCATIONAL  ORGANIZATION 

certain  specified  conditions.  .  .  .  To-day,  the  burden  of 
medical  teaching  lies  in  the  endeavor  to  afford  the 
student  the  opportunity  to  see  for  himself  the  things 
and  processes  which  concern  the  human  body  both  in 
health  and  disease,  and  to  teach  him  to  study  these 
logically  in  all  the  lights  which  any  phase  of  science 
may  throw  upon  them." 

Before  the  reorganization  took  place  the  school  was 
still  based  upon  a  pattern  which  had  descended  from 
the  seven  traditional  chairs  of  the  old  proprietary  school, 
and  which  gave  no  adequate  representation  to  the  labo- 
ratory sciences.  The  year  1903  was  a  notable  one ;  the 
department  of  surgery  was  reorganized  and  an  entirely 
new  department  of  pharmacology  and  therapeutics  was 
established,  with  Dr.  S.  W.  Lambert,  the  present  dean, 
at  its  head.  In  these  radical  changes  some  mistakes 
may  have  been  made,  but  the  trustees  worked  im- 
partially and  sincerely  and  something  was  absolutely 
necessary  to  put  the  school  upon  the  basis  of  a  uni- 
versity department.  Dr.  James  W.  McLane,  however, 
retired,  after  a  faculty  service  of  thirty-five  years,  and 
several  of  the  older  professors  went  with  him. 

The  new  dean  was  the  first  to  protest  publicly  against 
the  organization  known  as  the  private  quiz,  which  every 
ambitious  student,  if  he  desired  a  hospital  appointment 
after  graduation,  was  practically  forced  to  join  at  a 
heavy  expense  in  order  to  get  the  individual  teaching 
which  the  school  itself  did  not  provide.  This  quiz,  it 
may  be  said,  was  the  lineal  descendant  of  the  old  plan, 
formerly  prescribed  by  law,  which  assigned  a  preceptor 
to  each  student  of  medicine.  By  improving  the  actual 
instruction  in  the  school,  the  quiz  was  made  no  longer 
necessary  and  has  practically  disappeared.  Another  ex- 
ample of  how  recent  is  the  placing  of  medical  education 


MEDICINE  123 

upon  a  plane  with  the  other  sciences,  is  the  fact  that 
until  1903  there  was  no  reference  library  for  the 
students.  It  was  not  until  1910  that  the  new  require- 
ment of  at  least  two  years'  special  college  preparation 
went  into  effect,  insuring  good  material  upon  which  to 
work.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  majority  of  students  are 
now  college  graduates. 

In  recent  years  the  advances  have  been  steady.  In 
1909  the  whole  series  of  sciences  which  had  grown  out 
of  the  original  chair  of  pathology  were  reorganized,  as 
was  the  department  of  medicine.  In  speaking  of  the  new 
order  of  things  at  the  Medical  School,  particular  credit 
should  be  given  to  a  group  of  younger  men  who  have 
sacrificed  advancement  in  practice  for  the  purely  scien- 
tific side  of  their  profession.  The  high  repute  in  which 
the  school  is  now  held  throughout  the  country  is  in  large 
measure  due  to  the  researches  and  publications  of  these 
men.  The  opportunities  for  further  research  have  been 
greatly  increased  by  the  bequest  of  the  late  George 
Crocker,  the  income  of  whose  bequest  of  nearly  $2,000,000 
is  to  be  used  first  for  the  stamping  out  of  cancer  and, 
when  that  problem  is  solved,  to  fight  other  ills  that 
flesh  is  heir  to. 

One  of  the  worst  features  of  the  old  order  of  things 
was  the  limited  hospital  opportunities  open  to  students. 
These  depended  wholly  upon  the  appointment  to  hon- 
orary professorships  of  members  of  the  staffs  of  the 
different  hospitals,  entirely  regardless  of  their  skill  and 
interest  in  teaching.  Under  such  conditions  the  actual 
hospital  opportunities  of  the  students  were  naturally 
spasmodic  and  slight.  The  Sloane  Maternity  Hospital 
and  the  Vanderbilt  Clinic  gave  excellent  opportunities, 
so  far  as  they  went,  but  they  did  not  cover  general  hos- 
pital experience.    In  1905,  Dr.  Lambert  recommended 


124  EDUCATIONAL  ORGANIZATION 

the  adoption  of  the  English  system  of  clinical  clerk- 
ships whereby  each  student,  during  his  course,  actually 
lives  and  serves  in  a  hospital  for  several  months,  and  this 
system  was  adopted  by  the  College  four  years  later.  It 
was  appropriate  historically  that  Columbia  should  take 
a  leading  position  in  this  matter,  for  it  was  one  of  the 
professors  of  King's  College,  Samuel  Bard,  who  first 
insisted  that  one  of  the  necessary  features  of  a  school 
of  medicine  was  a  hospital  in  which  medicine  might  be 
studied  and  taught,  and,  when  the  New  York  Hospital 
was  organized  in  1791,  Bard  was  instrumental  in  having 
provision  made  for  the  medical  students  to  attend  its 
practice. 

Public  opinion,  as  President  Butler  has  said,  has  moved 
rapidly  during  the  past  few  years  in  regard  to  the  inter- 
dependence of  medical  schools  and  hospitals.  It  is  now 
pretty  clear  to  all  enlightened  hospital  managers  that 
the  mere  care  of  the  ill  and  suffering  is  only  one-half 
of  a  hospital's  business.  The  other  half  is  to  assist  in 
the  study  of  disease  and  in  the  better  training  of  those 
upon  whom  is  to  devolve  the  responsibility  for  the  pre- 
vention and  cure  of  disease  hereafter.  In  1911  came 
to  Columbia  a  new  example  of  increased  opportunity  by 
a  treaty  of  most  far-reaching  importance.  Mr.  Edward 
S.  Harkness  offered  to  provide  the  means  for  erecting 
upon  the  land  of  the  Presbyterian  Hospital  a  surgical 
pavilion,  containing  150  beds,  equipped  with  modem 
appliances  and  the  laboratories  for  advanced  research. 
He  further  offered  to  the  Hospital,  on  behalf  of 
an  unnamed  donor,  money  and  securities  estimated  to 
be  of  a  value  of  $1,300,000,  the  income  to  be  used  toward 
the  support  of  the  scientific  and  educational  work  con- 
nected with  the  Hospital.  The  University  agreed  to  meet 
all  the  cost  of  carrying  on  the  educational  work  of  the 


MEDICINE  125 

Hospital,  provided  that  the  income  of  the  fund  men- 
tioned above  should  be  applied  to  whatever  extent  might 
be  necessary  for  this  purpose.  The  University  and  the 
Hospital  are  to  share  the  cost  of  operation  and  main- 
tenance of  the  hospital  buildings. 

This  plan  should  add  greatly  to  the  opportunities  of 
students  not  only  in  medicine  and  surgery,  but  in  the 
laboratory  sciences  of  pathology,  bacteriology,  chemistry, 
and  physiology.  Both  parties  are  moving  cautiously  in 
the  development  of  this  scheme,  fraught  as  it  is  with 
tremendous  possibilities  for  the  future  of  medical  educa- 
tion in  the  country.  The  professors  of  surgery,  medicine, 
and  pathology  are,  however,  already  in  charge  of  their 
respective  fields  at  the  hospital,  and  all  three  are  limiting 
their  activities  to  teaching,  to  the  treatment  of  patients 
in  the  hospital,  and  to  research. 

The  new  order  at  the  College  of  Physicians  and  Sur- 
geons, which  it  must  be  remembered  is  without  endow- 
ment for  general  purposes,  costs  the  trustees  of  the  Uni- 
versity more  than  one  hundred  thousand  dollars  a  year. 
The  increased  entrance  requirements^  a  raising  of  fees, 
and  the  uncertainty  among  the  alumni  of  the  old  school  as 
to  the  new  plans,  and  as  to  the  wisdom  of  advising  young 
friends  to  register  there,  reduced  the  number  of  students 
from  809  in  1902  to  330  six  years  later.  Since  then  the 
school  has  been  growing  steadily,  though  slowly,  and 
now  numbers  369.  The  graduates  of  1913  brought  the 
total  number  of  alumni  up  to  7,843. 

The  College  of  Physicians  and  Surgeons  seems  des- 
tined to  become  in  the  future  largely  a  finishing  school. 
The  costs  for  clinical  instruction  are  so  high  and  the 
opportunity  for  it  depends  so  absolutely  upon  large 
populations  that  many  of  the  smaller  universities,  and 
even  a  university  as  large  as  the  University  of  Wiscon- 


126  EDUCATIONAL  ORGANIZATION 

sin,  limit  their  medical  work  to  the  first  two  years,  and 
are  sending  their  students  for  the  two  final  or  clinical 
years  to  such  institutions  as  Columbia.  The  number  of 
students  who  go  abroad  to  complete  their  medical  edu- 
cation is  likely  to  decrease.  In  the  judgment  of  Dr. 
Lambert,  the  best  medical  schools  in  America  are  to-day 
better  than  are  those  of  Germany  in  laboratory  facili- 
ties and  are  rapidly  becoming  as  good  clinical  schools 
as  those  of  France  and  Great  Britain. 

William  R.  Ware,  who  was  called  to  Columbia  in  1881 
to  start  a  department  of  architecture  under  the  School 
of  Mines,  had  had  fifteen  years'  experience  as  head  of 
the  School  of  Architecture  of  the  Massachusetts  Insti- 
tute of  Technology.  He  is  grouped  with  Hunt  and 
Richardson  as  one  of  the  men  who  did  most  for  Ameri- 
can architecture  during  the  dark  days  in  the  middle  of 
the  last  century.  Just  as  Professor  Dwight  was  in 
himself  the  School  of  Law,  so  for  many  years  was  Pro- 
fessor Ware  the  School  of  Architecture.  He  was  not 
only  one  of  Columbia's  most  devoted  and  distinguished 
professors,  but  one  of  her  most  picturesque  and  lovable 
men. 

In  his  first  report,  Professor  Ware  pointed  out  the 
importance  of  creating  for  the  work  in  architecture  an 
atmosphere  of  its  own,  favorable  to  the  harmonious 
development  of  its  own  students.  Little  by  little  he 
succeeded  in  loosing  the  bond  which  held  architecture 
to  the  other  departments  in  the  School  of  Mines,  and 
later  carried  this  plan  to  the  point  of  isolation  from 
the  general  university  interests.  Under  Professor  Ware, 
and  after  his  retirement  in  1903,  under  his  suc- 
cessor and  pupil,  Professor  Hamlin,  the  historical  and 
critical  side  of  the  architect's  training  was  given  first 


ARCHITECTURE  127 

attention,  although  in  later  years  more  and  more  atten- 
tion came  to  be  given  to  design.  Under  the  new  director, 
Mr.  Austin  W.  Lord,  the  field  of  architectural  design 
is,  it  is  clear  to  see,  to  have  pre-eminence,  and,  since 
his  appointment  in  1912,  the  course  of  study  has  already 
been  considerably  modified  to  this  end.  The  students 
take  kindly  to  the  new  emphasis.  Indeed,  it  has  been 
found  necessary  to  institute  certain  eligibility  rules  as 
to  standing  in  other  subjects,  as  a  basis  for  entry  in 
the  competitions  in  design  which  have  been  borrowed 
from  the  Paris  Ecole  des  Beaux- Arts. 

The  school  suffers  from  the  presence  of  an  academic 
bimetallism.  Of  the  143  students,  less  than  one-third 
are  candidates  for  an  academic  degree.  Most  of  the  oth- 
ers, admitted  upon  a  comparatively  low  entrance  stand- 
ard, are  working  toward  a  non-committal  certificate  of 
proficiency. 

In  the  university  organization  the  School  of  Archi- 
tecture is  now  in  a  somewhat  anomalous  position.  With 
the  department  of  music  it  was  set  apart,  in  1906,  as 
the  nucleus  of  a  Faculty  of  Fine  Arts,  but  apart  from 
the  excellent  work  of  Professor  Dow  in  Teachers  Col- 
lege, and  of  members  of  the  classical  departments  in 
archseology,  and  some  tentative  steps  toward  landscape 
design,  the  other  branches  of  the  fine  arts  are  not  yet 
represented.  This,  however,  is  a  condition  which  the 
trustees  of  the  University  and,  indeed,  the  public  at 
large  cannot  complacently  regard  as  permanent. 

Even  before  President  Barnard's  great  service,  Colum- 
bia, through  its  graduates,  had  had  an  important  share 
in  the  development  of  the  profession  of  education  in 
America.  Alexander  Hamilton  was  largely  instrumental 
in  organizing  the  University  of  the  State  of  New  York. 


128  EDUCATIONAL  ORGANIZATION 

To  DeWitt  Clinton  we  owe  the  founding  of  the  free 
school  system  of  the  city,  the  initiation  of  the  move- 
ment for  the  professional  training  of  teachers,  and  the 
first  legislation  for  the  education  of  women.  It  was 
through  another  alumnus,  Daniel  B.  Tompkins,  that  the 
foundation  of  the  common  school  system  of  the  State 
was  laid. 

Teachers  College  had  its  origin  in  the  Industrial  Edu- 
cation Association,  formed  in  1884,  to  give  instruction 
in  the  elementary  home  economies  and  manual  arts  to 
children  who  were  receiving  no  such  guidance  either  in 
school  or  at  home.  It  was  soon  found  that  the  most  ef- 
fective way  to  accomplish  these  ends  was  to  provide 
adequately  trained  teachers.  As  early  as  1881  Barnard, 
it  will  be  remembered,  had  proposed  that  *'  the  science 
and  art  of  education  "  be  included  in  the  Columbia  cur- 
riculum. These  two  lines  of  endeavor  coalesced  in  1887 
and  the  New  York  College  for  the  Training  of  Teachers 
was  incorporated,  with  Nicholas  Murray  Butler  as  its 
president. 

As  in  the  case  of  Barnard  College,  the  new  institution 
was  built  up  at  President  Barnard's  instance  outside 
the  University,  with  the  definite  hope  of  bringing  it  later 
into  organic  relations  therewith.  Before  Professor  But- 
ler's retirement  as  president  in  1891,  an  alliance  was 
effected  with  Columbia,  but  the  distance  between  the 
two  institutions  prevented  any  close  co-operation.  Dur- 
ing the  administration,  1891-97,  of  his  successor,  Dr. 
Walter  L.  Hervey,  a  charter  was  obtained  and  the  name 
Teachers  College  adopted,  A  closer  agreement  was  also 
made  with  Columbia,  and  to  the  original  two  years  of 
professional  training  were  added  first  one  and  then  a 
second  year  of  preparatory  collegiate  work,  which  were 
maintained  until  1906.    In  1894  the  College  moved  to  its 


Teachers  College,  from  the  Green 


TEACHERS  COLLEGE  129 

present  site.  Since  1900,  when  under  tlie  agreement 
with  the  University  already  referred  to  the  president 
of  the  University  became  its  president  and  Professor 
James  E.  Russell  was  elected  dean,  the  growth  of  Teach- 
ers College  has  been  remarkable,  both  in  resources  and 
in  numbers  of  students,  particularly  in  students  already 
holding  a  college  degree. 

By  1912,  the  two  lines  of  work  fostered  from  the  first 
had  become  so  fully  developed,  the  student  body  so  large, 
and  the  demands  upon  the  College  so  diverse  that  the 
professional  and  the  technical  work  were  divided,  and 
two  schools — one  of  education,  one  of  practical  arts — 
were  established,  each  under  its  own  faculty.  After 
1914  the  advanced  professional  work  in  education  is  to  be 
upon  a  graduate  basis. 

The  School  of  Practical  Arts,  to  summarize  a  recent 
report  of  Dean  Russell,  offers  to  both  men  and  women 
a  program  of  study  of  four  years,  equivalent  in  stand- 
ards of  admission  and  graduation  to  the  traditional  col- 
lege course.  It  includes  in  its  program  both  general 
cultural  subjects  and  a  broad  and  generous  technical 
training,  based  on  adequate  instruction  in  science  or 
the  arts,  by  which  the  student  may  get  a  high  type  of 
vocational  training  in  industrial  and  household  arts, 
dietetics,  institutional  work,  public  health,  fine  arts,  the 
art  industries,  music,  and  physical  training.  In  co- 
operation with  the  School  of  Education  it  prepares  stu- 
dents as  teachers  in  these  fields.  The  school  enjoys  all 
the  privileges  of  University  membership,  and  its  gradu- 
ates receive  the  University  degree  of  Bachelor  of  Science 
in  Practical  Arts. 

The  significance  of  this  step  can  hardly  be  estimated 
at  present.  It  may  well  be  the  beginning  of  a  new  type 
of  collegiate  education  for  women,  one  wliich  sacrifices 


130  EDUCATIONAL  OEGANIZATION 

little  of  the  traditional  cultural  element  of  the  older 
liberal  subjects  and  attaches  special  importance  to  those 
practical  arts  which  determine  the  efficiency  of  domestic 
and  industrial  life. 

From  the  same  report  of  1912  I  take  the  following 
signijScant  paragraph: 

**  During  the  past  fifteen  years  Teachers  College  has 
given  instruction  to  some  twenty-five  thousand  students. 
Of  this  number  about  thirty-three  hundred  have  been 
graduated.  Probably  two  thousand  others  will  return 
later  to  finish  their  work.  Such  figures  tell  emphatically 
of  the  extent  of  Teachers  College  influence.  Our  stu- 
dents are  at  work  in  every  state  of  the  Union  and  in 
practically  every  country  on  the  face  of  the  globe.  They 
occupy  positions  ranging  from  the  kindergarten  to  the 
university  and  from  assistant  in  the  lowest  grade  to 
the  headship  of  the  educational  system  of  our  leading 
state.  "When  one  takes  into  account  the  youth  of  the 
institution — in  1898  the  graduating  class  numbered 
twenty-nine  and  in  1912  it  was  six  hundred — it  must  be 
clear  that  the  maximum  strength  of  the  College  will  not 
be  exerted  for  several  years.  Most  of  our  graduates 
are  still  young;  in  ten  years  they  will  have  advanced 
to  more  commanding  positions.  By  that  time  we  shall 
have  ten  thousand  graduates  in  the  field  and  probably 
forty  thousand  others  who  have  had  a  partial  course. 
Then  we  shall  know  whether  Teachers  College  training 
is  worth  what  it  costs.  No  other  institution  has  ever 
had  such  an  opportunity.  Judgment  will  be  taken  on 
the  way  we  use  it." 

In  1887,  Teachers  College  started  the  Horace  Mann 
School,  with  sixty-four  pupils,  as  a  school  of  observa- 
tion and  practice.  It  is  still  used  for  observation,  but 
it  has  become  also  a  profitable  investment  for  Teach- 
ers College.  Incidentally  it  is  the  largest  private  school 
in  the  United  States  and  one  of  the  best.  Nine-tenths 
of  its  graduates  enter  college.    The  school  has  outgrown 


TEACHERS  COLLEGE  131 

the  beautiful  building  provided  for  it  by  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
V.  Event  Macy,  and  the  high-school  work  for  boys  will 
shortly  be  moved  to  the  property  adjoining  Van  Cort- 
landt  Park. 

The  Speyer  School  building,  erected  ten  years  ago 
by  Mr.  and  Mrs.  James  Speyer,  serves  a  double  pur- 
pose. It  is  the  school  of  demonstration  and  experimen- 
tation for  Teachers  College,  and  it  is  also  a  center  for 
social  and  neighborhood  work  among  the  people  of  the 
district  known  as  Manhattanville. 

The  relations  of  Teachers  College,  the  Cinderella  of 
the  University,  as  it  has  been  called,  with  the  older 
parts  of  the  University  have  not  always  been  smooth. 
In  no  other  profession  was  the  necessity  of  the  highest 
training  for  experts  so  long  unrecognized  as  in  teaching. 
Indeed,  the  first  university  chair  in  education  was  es- 
tablished hardly  more  than  thirty  years  ago.  "When 
Teachers  College  came  into  the  Columbia  fold  the  word 
pedagogy  was  anathema  to  many  of  the  older  men,  and 
the  new  school  was  none  too  warmly  welcomed  by  them. 
To-day  it  is  fully  appreciated  as  perhaps  the  most  vig- 
orous and  progressive  part  of  the  entire  institution. 
The  distinction  of  its  faculty  is  recognized,  as  is  its 
devotion  to  the  College — in  a  single  year  seven  of  the 
head  professors  declined  more  lucrative  positions  else- 
where. So  also  is  the  service  of  the  College  in  making 
the  University  known  in  fields  which  it  would  not  oth- 
erwise touch.  The  boot  at  present  is  rather  upon  the 
other  foot.  Teachers  College  in  the  full  flush  of  vigor- 
ous expansion  has  had,  so  to  speak,  no  time  to  collect 
barnacles,  and  some  of  its  members  who  have  not  for- 
gotten the  past  sins  of  the  University  are  inclined  to 
look  down  with  a  condescension  sometimes  mixed  with 
pity  upon  the  older  and  more  conservative  faculties. 


132  EDUCATIONAL  ORGANIZATION 

This,  however,  is  but  a  passing  phase,  like  the  attitude 
of  Canada  toward  England  a  decade  ago,  and  the  signs 
of  its  early  disappearance  are  not  wanting. 

Although  the  New  York  College  of  Pharmacy  is  one 
of  the  youngest  professional  schools  in  the  University 
system,  it  is  historically  next  to  the  oldest.  The  move- 
ment among  pharmacists  that  resulted  in  its  foundation 
began  in  1829,  a  charter  being  granted  two  years  later. 
The  College  was  for  many  years  informally  allied  to 
Columbia  through  the  common  service  of  Professors 
John  Torrey  and  Charles  F.  Chandler,  and  in  1904  it 
became  part  of  the  University  on  the  same  general  terms 
of  affiliation  as  Barnard  College  and  Teachers  College. 
Since  the  affiliation  its  standards  for  admission  and 
graduation  have  been  raised  so  that  they  are  now  the 
highest  in  the  country  for  this  particular  profession,  and 
its  staff  of  instruction,  originally  strong,  has  been  fur- 
ther strengthened  by  assignments  from  related  University 
departments.  There  are  now  441  students,  of  whom 
sixty-six  are  candidates  for  a  University  degree. 

The  school  has  been  influential  in  the  movement  for 
higher  professional  standards  in  pharmacy.  From  its 
very  beginning  the  instruction  of  undergraduates  has 
been  recognized  as  only  one  of  its  functions.  The  asso- 
ciation of  those  engaged  in  the  practice  of  pharmacy  for 
the  promotion  of  professional  interests  was  provided  for 
by  its  constitution  and  the  first  laws  for  regulating  the 
quality  of  drug  importations  originated  in  a  resolution 
adopted  by  this  college,  which  was  also  largely  instru- 
mental in  the  organization  of  the  American  Pharmaceu- 
tical Association,  A  great  element  of  strength  to  the 
school  is  the  devoted  service  rendered  to  it  from  the 
first  by  the  pharmacists  as  a  body. 


JOURNALISM  133 

When  the  School  of  Political  Science  was  organized 
in  1881,  one  of  its  stated  purposes  was  the  preparation 
of  young  men  for  the  duties  and  responsibilities  of  pub- 
lic journalism.  Only  a  few  students,  however,  used  the 
School  for  this  purpose,  and  for  many  years  it  looked 
as  though  Columbia's  sole  relation  to  this  calling  was 
as  a  laboratory  to  provide  subjects  for  New  York's 
sensational  journalism  at  its  worst.  I  remember,  for 
example,  a  lurid  story  about  the  University  proctors 
spying  through  the  keyholes  and  transoms  of  the  dor- 
mitories to  discover  signs  of  undergraduate  disorder. 
The  only  difficulty  with  this  story  was  that  at  Columbia 
there  are  no  proctors,  and  there  are  no  keyholes  and  no 
transoms  in  the  dormitory  buildings. 

In  the  year  1903,  Mr.  Joseph  Pulitzer,  who  had  al- 
ready shown  his  interest  in  the  University  by  the  estab- 
lishment of  an  important  system  of  scholarships,  gave 
the  University  one  million  dollars,  which  after  his  death 
in  October,  1911,  became  available  for  the  maintenance 
of  a  School  of  Journalism.  A  committee  of  professors 
shortly  afterward  reported  a  plan  for  the  organization 
and  conduct  of  the  School,  which  was  approved  by  an 
advisory  board  named  by  Mr.  Pulitzer,  consisting  of  a 
group  of  the  most  eminent  and  influential  journalists  of 
the  United  States.  Dr.  Talcott  Williams  of  the  Philadel- 
phia Press  was  appointed  Director  and  Professor  J.  W. 
Cunliffe  of  the  University  of  Wisconsin,  Associate  Di- 
rector. Not  waiting  for  the  construction  of  the  building 
for  which  Mr.  Pulitzer's  will  provided,  76  students  pre- 
sented themselves  for  instruction  in  September,  1912. 
The  present  registration  is  over  one  hundred. 

Three  notable  facts  as  to  this  school  have  been  pointed 
out.  Mr.  Pulitzer's  gift  is  the  largest  sum  ever  set  aside 
by  any  man  for  professional  training  in  the  calling  to 


134  EDUCATIONAL  ORGANIZATION 

which  he  himself  belonged.  The  School  is  the  first  to 
use  a  great  city  as  its  laboratories  and  the  first  school 
of  journalism  to  be  an  integral  part  of  a  great  university 
in  a  great  city. 

A  second  million  is  to  be  given  to  the  University 
when  the  executors  of  Mr.  Pulitzer's  will  are  satisfied 
that  for  three  years  the  School  has  been  and  then  is  in 
successful  operation;  and,  after  provision  is  made  for 
handsome  prizes  to  be  given  as  a  reward  for  conspicuous 
examples  of  public  service  throughout  the  country  in 
journalistic,  literary,  and  artistic  endeavor,  the  remainder 
is  to  be  added  to  the  endowment  of  the  School. 

It  is  recognized  that  journalism  properly  covers  the 
whole  art  of  effective  presentation  in  print  and  it  should 
have  as  prominent  a  place  in  the  modern  curriculum  as 
oratory  had  in  the  ancient.  The  sophists  and  rhetori- 
cians of  the  day  have  audiences  of  millions  in  the  news- 
papers and  magazines,  and  the  universities  have  been 
largely  to  blame  that  they  lack  the  responsibility  and 
training  of  an  established  profession.  Columbia  real- 
izes, however,  and  the  director  has  stated,  that  a  school 
of  journalism  can  no  more  make  journalists  than  a 
law  school  can  make  lawyers,  or  a  medical  school  can 
make  physicians.  All  it  can  do  is  to  give  a  man  the 
knowledge  that  is  useful  to  his  calling,  the  training 
necessary  to  its  practice,  in  such  a  way  as  to  quicken 
genius  and  to  awake  talent.  Journalism  is  an  art,  the 
art  of  expressing  the  progress  of  society  for  a  day,  and 
of  uttering  the  will,  the  aspirations,  the  opinions,  and 
the  commands  of  the  mass. 

The  University  recognizes  it  as  a  grateful  task  to  use 
its  best  endeavors  to  carry  into  fullest  execution  the 
noble  project  which  Mr.  Pulitzer  conceived.  Too  much 
cannot  be  said  in  praise  of  the  interest  and  devotion  of 


SUMMER  SESSION  135 

the  members  of  the  advisory  board,  without  whom  this 
important  undertaking  would  lack  that  helpful  guidance 
which  only  a  feeling  of  professional  responsibility  and 
a  wisdom  born  of  professional  experience  can  give. 

It  was  Mr.  Pulitzer's  desire  that  the  privileges  of  the 
School  be  open  to  every  student  of  marked  ability  who 
had  had  a  high-school  education,  and  for  that  reason  the 
customary  two  years  of  preparatory  collegiate  study  is 
not  insisted  upon.  This  is  strongly  urged,  however,  and 
a  gratifying  number  of  the  students  either  have  had  col- 
lege training  elsewhere  or  are  taking  a  combined  college 
and  professional  course.  The  School  is  to-day  the  lusti- 
est year-old  academic  infant  in  America.  The  students 
have  taken  up  their  work  with  enthusiasm  and  have 
added  a  valuable  and  picturesque  element  to  the  Uni- 
versity life.  The  director  and  his  staff  have  thrown 
themselves  heart  and  soul  into  the  new  project  and  have 
already  inaugurated  valuable  educational  experiments, 
particularly  in  the  closer  correlation,  or  interlocking  as 
they  call  it,  of  the  different  academic  subjects  of  study. 

When  summer  courses  were  inaugurated  at  Columbia 
in  1900,  the  work  was  regarded  by  our  academic  com- 
munity at  large  as  something  outside  of  the  real  field 
of  university  operations,  in  no  sense  a  vital  part  of 
the  activity  of  the  institution.  It  was  supposed  to  be 
chiefly  useful  as  an  opportunity  for  ambitious  teachers 
who  had  no  chance  of  real  university  training  to  get  a 
tolerable  imitation  of  it  for  a  few  weeks  in  the  year, 
and,  on  the  other  hand,  as  a  means  whereby  impecunious 
junior  officers  of  the  University  could  make  both  ends 
meet.  In  a  few  years  the  status  of  summer  work,  from 
an  experiment  of  doubtful  intellectual  and  academic 
propriety,  given  reluctant  house-room,  changed  to  its 


136  EDUCATIONAL  ORGANIZATION 

present  universally  accepted  position  as  one  of  the  most 
thoroughly  useful,  creditable,  and  characteristic  parts 
of  the  life  of  the  University.  Not  only  is  the  change 
amusing  to  those  who  believed  in  the  Summer  Session 
from  the  first,  but  it  represents  a  very  important  fact 
in  the  history  of  the  University. 

Year  by  year  the  academic  quality  of  the  students  has 
steadily  improved,  until  at  present  practically  half  are 
qualified  to  become  candidates  for  some  University  de- 
gree. Taking  the  figures  of  1913,  sixty-two  per  cent,  of 
the  total  registration  of  4,539  were  teachers.  The  pro- 
portion of  men  to  women  was  a  little  higher  than  two  to 
three.  The  fact  that  nearly  half  the  students  have  been 
members  of  some  previous  session,  and  many  hundreds 
are  also  in  residence  during  the  winter,  tends  to  bind  the 
student  body  together  from  the  opening.  In  general  Sum- 
mer Session  students  know  what  they  want  to  do  and  how 
they  want  to  do  it,  so  that  little  time  is  lost  in  getting 
under  way.  Some  details  as  to  their  incidental  activities 
are  given  in  a  later  chapter.  The  dominant  note,  how- 
ever, is  one  of  hard  intellectual  work. 

The  Summer  Session  is  worth  while  for  its  own  sake, 
and  it  is  also  worth  while  as  a  sort  of  fifth  wheel  for 
the  whole  complex  academic  vehicle.  Educational  slack 
of  all  kinds  can  be  taken  up  in  it  without  disturbing 
the  winter  programs.  Students  transferring  from 
other  institutions,  for  example,  can  clear  up  prerequisite 
subjects  that  would  otherwise  prove  most  troublesome. 
The  havoc  wrought  by  illness  or  too  great  devotion  to 
extra-curricular  matters  can  be  repaired.  From  ,  the 
faculty  point  of  view,  important  educational  experiments 
may  be  tried  or  new  teachers  given  a  chance  to  show 
what  they  can  do.  The  future  historian  of  Columbia 
will  have  many  reasons  for  giving  an  important  place  to 


EXTENSION  TEACHING  137 

the  first  decade  of  the  twentieth  centuiy,  and  not  the 
least  of  these  will  be  the  development  of  the  summer 
life,  with  its  pictnresqueness,  its  wide  field  of  usefulness, 
and  its  solid  foundation  of  scholarship. 

As  early  as  1830,  Columbia  endeavored  to  extend  her 
influence  to  those  outside  the  academic  walls.  In  1885 
the  project  was  again  taken  up,  and  Saturday  morning 
lectures  were  voluntarily  given  by  members  of  the  fac- 
ulty. Mr.  Low  greatly  extended  the  system  of  public 
lectures,  making  arrangements  for  them  at  Cooper  Union 
and  the  museums,  as  well  as  at  the  University.  From 
the  beginnings  of  the  Teachers  College  movement,  also, 
an  increasing  amount  of  co-ordinated  lecture  work  had 
been  carried  on  outside  the  regular  curriculum.  The  de- 
mands for  increased  academic  training  made  by  the  City 
Board  of  Education  in  1898  furnished  a  strong  stimulus 
to  these  courses. 

In  1904  this  work  in  Extension  Teaching  was  formally 
made  part  of  the  offering  of  the  University,  and  in  1910 
it  was  placed  under  the  direction  of  Professor  J.  C. 
Egbert,  to  be  administered  in  close  co-ordination  with 
the  work  of  the  Summer  Session,  of  which  he  is  also 
director.  Three  years  later  the  two  parts  of  the  work 
were  divided.  Extension  Teaching  continuing  to  make 
provision  for  regular  courses  of  standard  duration  and 
requirements,  for  which  academic  credit  has  been  given 
since  1904,  and  an  Institute  of  Arts  and  Sciences  being 
founded  to  take  charge  of  the  briefer  courses  for  which 
no  formal  credit  could  be  granted,  and  to  co-ordinate 
the  system  of  lectures  and  recitals  given  throughout  the 
University. 

Most  of  the  regular  courses  in  Extension  Teaching  are 
now  given  at  the  University,  subject  to  exactly  the  same 


138  EDUCATIONAL  ORGANIZATION 

standards  which  are  required  for  the  re^lar  pro- 
gramme, the  courses,  however,  being  offered  at  hours 
convenient  to  those  who  cannot  enjoy  regular  University 
residence.  One-fifth  of  the  extension  students  have 
satisfied  the  requirements  for  matriculation  under  some 
faculty  and  each  year  many  transfer  to  regular  mem- 
bership in  the  University.  The  work  has  also  been  car- 
ried, with  as  yet  no  striking  success,  into  Brooklyn, 
Newark,  and  other  nearby  centers,  and  even  as  far 
afield  as  Buffalo.  The  present  registration  is  2,754,  to 
which  should  be  added  1,152  students  who  are  tech- 
nically registered  as  members  of  special  classes  in  Teach- 
ers College.  Neither  group  is  included  in  the  totals  of 
regular  university  registration.  The  teaching  staff  num- 
bers more  than  one  hundred  and  fifty  instructors,  in- 
cluding some  of  the  most  distinguished  professors  of  the 
University. 

Like  the  Summer  Session,  this  work  has  an  important 
function  in  maintaining  the  characteristic  elasticity  of 
the  Columbia  organization.  It  has  practically  removed 
from  the  undergraduate  colleges  the  old  bugbear  of  the 
special  student,  since  all  applicants  of  doubtful  aca- 
demic preparation  are  referred  to  the  extension  classes, 
from  which  they  may  be  transferred  after  they  have 
shown  their  proficiency.  Many  of  the  regular  students 
pursue  extension  courses  either  in  order  to  avoid  con- 
flicts in  the  regular  program  or  to  take  up  some  spe- 
cial subject  for  which  no  provision  is  made  there.  For 
ten  years  the  University  maintained  a  special  class  of 
irregular  and  usually  unsatisfactory  students  known  as 
auditors.  This  class  also  has  disappeared.  The  exten^ 
sion  courses  are  more  generous  in  their  welcome  of  new 
subjects  than  the  older  departments  and  the  program 
includes  work  in  playwriting,  in  the  psychology  of  ad- 


EXTENSION  TEACHING  139 

vertising,  and  in  optometry,  as  well  as  in  frankly  non- 
academic  subjects,  such  as  typewriting  and  stenography. 
The  only  dangers  in  the  rapid  development  of  Exten- 
sion Teaching  to  which  the  University  seems  ex- 
posed are  first  that  of  adulterating  the  student  body 
with  irregulars  of  a  lower  preparation,  and  secondly  that 
of  giving  an  opportunity  to  ambitious  junior  professors 
to  carry  an  unduly  heavy  load  at  the  expense  not  only  of 
their  health,  but  of  their  responsibilities  to  the  regular 
faculties.  These  difficulties,  however,  can  be  overcome 
by  careful  administration,  and  the  public  service  of  the 
work  to  that  large  part  of  the  community  which  cannot 
enjoy  regular  university  training  is  hard  to  overestimate. 

The  Institute  of  Arts  and  Sciences  has  only  just  been 
opened,  but  it  has  the  great  advantage  of  having  an 
excellent  basis  upon  which  to  build  in  the  hundreds  of 
public  lectures  heretofore  delivered  each  year  at  the 
University.  Three  hundred  lectures  and  other  forms 
of  entertainment  are  to  be  offered  during  each  season 
under  the  auspices  of  the  Institute.  Many  of  the  best 
known  professors  have  agreed  to  deliver  courses  of  six 
or  more  lectures  of  the  English  University  Extension 
type,  and  for  musical  productions  the  co-operation  of 
the  Philharmonic  Orchestra,  the  Kneisel  Quartet,  and 
other  organizations  has  been  assured.  An  important 
feature  of  its  activities,  already  well  developed,  is  in 
choral  singing,  for  which  New  York  offers  at  present 
fewer  opportunities  than  do  many  smaller  cities.  The 
plan  is  financed  by  an  annual  fee  of  ten  dollars, 
which  will  admit  the  member  free  to  lectures  and  the  like, 
and  at  a  reduced  rate  to  professional  performances.  Al- 
ready more  than  one  thousand  men  and  women  have 
joined  the  Institute. 


140  EDUCATIONAL  ORGANIZATION 

The  teaching  staff  of  the  University  for  1913-14  num- 
bers 740,  exclusive  of  clinical  assistants  and  of  those 
teaching  only  in  the  Summer  Session  or  Extension 
classes.  In  the  relations  of  these  men  and  women  to  one 
another,  there  is  a  double  pattern  of  organization.  There 
is  that  of  the  faculties  and  boards,  grouped  around  the 
University  Council,  which  is  representative  of  all  facul- 
ties and  **  treaty  powers.'*  Particularly  among  the 
newer  activities,  small  administrative  boards  have  taken 
the  place  of  faculties,  partly  because  the  council  de- 
sires to  retain  a  closer  hold  and  partly  lest  in  the  multi- 
plication of  technical  faculties  the  institution  should 
become  a  polytechnicum,  with  the  center  of  academic 
gravity  no  longer  in  the  realm  of  advanced  scholarship. 
On  the  other  hand,  there  are  the  departments,  a  dis- 
tinctly modem  product — at  Columbia  they  hardly  ex- 
isted before  Mr.  Low's  time — ^whieh  cut  sharply  across 
the  faculty  and  corporate  lines.  "While  rather  illogically 
they  bear  no  organic  relation  to  the  council,  they  have 
nevertheless  a  powerful  hold  upon  the  institution 
through  their  important  share  in  the  preparation  of  the 
budget. 

Dean  Russell  has  pointed  out  the  underlying  interest 
of  each  imit  of  organization,  that  of  the  faculty  in  the 
student  and  his  needs,  that  of  the  department  in  the 
development  and  rounding  out  of  each  subject  of  study 
itself.  It  is  the  frequent  conflict  of  these  interests  which, 
for  the  present  at  any  rate,  make  the  double  weave  both 
vexatious  and  necessary. 

There  are  two  general  schools  of  thought  as  to  uni- 
versity organization  at  Columbia ;  one,  of  which  Professor 
Burgess  has  long  been  the  leader,  lays  emphasis  on  the 
individual  professor  and  the  faculty,  while  the  other, 
until  very  recently  the  more  generally  followed,  em- 


FACULTIES  AND  DEPARTMENTS         141 

phasizes  the  department  as  the  dominating  unit.    On  this 
point  President  Butler  has  said : 

**  When  the  University  was  in  the  state  of  reorgani- 
zation and  reconstruction,  the  faculties,  as  such,  had 
a  good  deal  of  business  at  every  session.  They  were 
framing  new  conceptions  of  their  work,  new  regulations 
for  guidance,  new  conceptions  of  their  inter-dependency 
with  other  parts  of  the  institution,  and  the  meetings  were 
long  and  animated  and  interesting.  After  the  frame- 
work was  made  and  operated  successfully  for  a  period 
of  years,  and  had  been  amended  as  need  arose,  then 
the  faculties,  as  such,  found  themselves  left  with  only 
more  or  less  routine  work  to  do,  passing  on  sometimes 
very  formally  and  in  a  routine  way  the  recommenda- 
tions of  the  departments.  Much  of  this  routine  is  now 
in  the  hands  of  committees. 

* '  "What  appears  to  me  to  be  going  on  with  us,  although 
others  might  not  agree  with  this  diagnosis,  is  the  attri- 
tion of  the  faculties  between  the  council  above  and  the 
departments  below,  and  I  should  not  be  at  all  surprised 
if  twenty  years  from  now,  or  probably  in  less  time,  the 
faculties,  which  are  really  a  survival  from  the  middle 
ages,  should  practically  disappear.  This  is  not  because 
anybody  desires  it  to  be  so,  not  because  it  is  the  policy 
of  any  official  or  board,  but  because  it  is  the  law  of  aca- 
demic gravitation. ' ' 

The  fulfillment  of  this  prophecy  seems  likely  to  be 
postponed  at  any  rate,  by  a  recent  vote  of  the  University 
Council,  which  looks  toward  formal  recommendations 
by  the  faculties  as  such  with  regard  to  the  budget. 
These  are  not  to  supplant  the  departmental  recommen- 
dations, but  to  supplement  them.  Any  control  over  the 
purse  strings,  however,  even  indirect  control,  is  certain 
to  enhance  the  power  of  the  faculties. 

In  all  the  professional  schools,  moreover,  one  funda- 
mental faculty  service  still  remains  to  be  completed, 


142  EDUCATIONAL  ORGANIZATION 

and  that  is  a  careful  simplification  of  the  courses  lead- 
ing to  the  professional  degrees.  These  courses  in  Amer- 
ica, it  must  be  remembered,  developed  from  the  appren- 
ticeship system,  and  for  this  reason  and  from  de- 
partmental enthusiasms  they  have  in  the  course  of  time 
become  overloaded  with  minute  and  non-essential  de- 
tails, from  which  they  are  only  just  beginning  to  be 
freed. 

In  addition  to  the  original  faculty  of  the  College, 
the  faculties  and  boards  in  the  order  of  their  estab- 
lishment are  as  follows :  Law,  Medicine,  Applied  Science, 
Political  Science,  Philosophy,  Pure  Science;  Barnard 
College,  Teachers  College  (divided  in  1912  into  Edu- 
cation and  Practical  Arts),  Pharmacy,  Fine  Arts. 
The  last  named  is  about  to  be  discontinued  for  the  pres- 
ent. There  are  Administrative  Boards  for  the  Summer 
Session,  Extension  Teaching,  Agriculture,  Journalism, 
and  Architecture. 

Many  professors  sit  in  more  than  one  faculty,  some 
in  as  many  as  four.  In  some  cases  the  faculty  has 
grown  very  unwieldy,  containing  more  than  fifty  men. 
The  strength  and  usefulness  of  any  faculty  depends 
upon  a  comparatively  restricted  field  and  a  community 
of  intellectual  interest.  Where  these  are  lacking,  little 
can  be  accomplished.  It  is  for  this  reason  that  Teachers 
College  has  recently  budded  off  a  Faculty  of  Practical 
Arts  from  its  original  Faculty  of  Education. 

The  statutes  recognize  fifty-four  departments  of  in- 
struction. For  certain  administrative  purposes  these 
are  grouped  into  sixteen  divisions.  While  in  some  cases 
the  divisional  organization  is  a  real  and  useful  one,  in 
general  the  division  at  Columbia  has  never  taken  the 
important  place  in  the  scheme  of  things  that  it  has, 


DEPARTMENTS  AND  DIVISIONS         143 

for  example,  at  Harvard.  Excepting  education,  which 
may  be  regarded  as  a  school,  a  faculty,  a  division,  or  a 
department,  according  to  the  point  of  view  of  the  ob- 
server, the  largest  departments,  as  judged  by  student 
registration,  are  English,  physical  education,  chemistry, 
physics,  and  history,  each  of  which  registers  annually 
more  than  six  hundred  students.  Six  other  departments 
have  each  more  than  four  hundred  students.  No  fewer 
than  thirty  of  the  departments  have  an  annual  appropria- 
tion for  maintenance  greater  than  was  the  entire  income 
of  the  institution  as  late  as  1823.  The  larger  depart- 
ments have  more  members  than  the  entire  faculty  of 
many  a  good  small  college. 

In  general,  each  department  has  descended  from  some 
professorial  "  chair,"  The  strong  professors  grouped 
their  disciples  about  them  as  assistants,  and  for  this 
reason  the  original  form  of  organization  was  a  military 
one,  with  the  senior  professor  in  supreme  command. 
Little  by  little,  with  the  calling  of  men  of  maturity 
and  distinction  in  different  fields  to  the  University,  this 
has  broken  down  and  the  best  departments  are  usually 
upon  a  democratic  basis,  the  details  of  administration 
being  often  carried  on  by  one  of  the  younger  professors. 
Where  the  department  is  still  upon  the  military  basis, 
the  professors  and  instructors  of  Teachers  College  and 
the  other  treaty  powers  are  likely  to  maintain  only  a 
nominal  relationship  with  their  colleagues.  Where  it 
is  democratic,  the  corporate  lines  are  drawn  far  less 
tightly.  There  is  a  tendency  at  present  toward  a  merg- 
ing of  the  smaller  departments  which,  usually  for  acci- 
dental reasons,  have  grown  up  independently  into  larger 
and  stronger  units. 

With  all  of  its  evident  elements  of  strength,  the  de- 
partmental system  has  one  definite  weakness,  and  that 


144  EDUCATIONAL  ORGANIZATION 

for  a  very  human  reason.  Professors  are  likely  to  be- 
lieve firmly  that  their  subjects  or  their  departments  are  of 
greater  relative  importance  than  is  really  the  case,  other- 
wise they  might  well  have  chosen  some  other  field  for 
their  life  work.  Now  beyond  a  certain  point  the  develop- 
ment of  any  field  is  at  the  expense  of  the  institution  as 
a  whole,  and  the  over-developments  that  have  come  about 
primarily  from  human  rivalry  between  departments  con- 
stitute not  the  least  important  reason  for  the  low  level 
of  academic  salaries  here  and  elsewhere  to-day.  The  new 
plan  of  faculty  budgets  has  been  devised  primarily  with 
a  view  to  checking  such  over-developments  for  the  future. 


(BJllpiWiw^ 


TEACHERS  AND  EXECUTIVES 

The  Personal  Equation.  Complexity  and  Diversity.  Social 
Eelations.  Economic  Factors.  A  Working  Community.  Pro- 
fessors and  Students.  Publication.  Teaching.  In  Memoriam. 
Earlier  Men.    Anthon,  Drisler,  Van  Amringe.    The  Presidents. 

A  UNIVERSITY  is  made  not  by  situation,  by  money,  or 
by  machinery,  but  by  men.  "  The  greatness  of  a  uni- 
versity,"— I  am  quoting  from  an  address  by  Professor 
H.  T.  Peck, — "  however  stimulated  and  inspired,  does 
not  depend  first  of  all  on  bricks  and  mortar,  upon  well- 
ordered  curriculum,  and  upon  the  material  equipment, 
books,  the  apparatus,  and  the  smoothness  of  the  admin- 
istrative machinery.  It  depends  in  its  last  analysis  on 
the  men  who  do  the  work,  who  guide  and  excite  and  stir 
the  minds  of  those  who  carry  away,  in  the  end,  a  far 
less  vivid  impression  of  their  studies  than  of  the  per- 
sonal influence  of  their  instructors. ' ' 

And  it  is  worth  while  for  those  outside  of  academic 
life  to  know  something  of  such  men,  for,  as  President 
Butler  not  long  ago  said :  * '  It  is  the  dreamer  of  dreams, 
the  poet,  the  prophet,  the  man  of  letters,  the  man  of 
science,  who  has  the  world  in  his  hands  to-day  and  has 
always  had  it.  He  is  the  man  who  sets  free  the  forces, 
who  sets  in  motion  the  tendencies,  who  gives  expression 
to  the  ideas,  which  seize  hold  of  and  mold  the  people. ' ' 

It  is  not  easy  to  picture  adequately  the  dead  or  the 
living,  the  present  or  the  absent.  Our  academic  body 
was  indeed  reminded  at  a  recent  '  *  family  dinner  ' '  that 
the  established  convention,  that  nothing  but  good  shall 

145 


146  TEACHERS  AND  EXECUTIVES 

be  spoken  of  the  dead,  finds  its  complement  in  that  other 
convention  upon  which  we  are  more  accustomed  to  act, 
that  nothing  good  shall  be  spoken  of  the  living.  It  is 
not  even  easy  to  classify  our  human  material,  for  the 
same  man,  it  often  happens,  is  worthy  of  note  as  under- 
graduate, alumnus,  teacher,  administrator,  and  trustee. 

The  ramification  of  the  modem  faculties  and  depart- 
ments from  the  original  "  chairs  "  forms  an  interest- 
ing subject  of  investigation.  Less  than  fifty  years  ago, 
the  erudite  Scotchman,  Nairne,  was  supposed  to  cover 
a  field  which  is  now  occupied  by  more  tlian  forty  pro- 
fessorships. There  is,  however,  nothing  in  this  ramifica- 
tion that  is  peculiarly  typical  of  Columbia.  Our  aca- 
demic titles,  as  a  final  difiSculty,  lack  the  piquancy  of 
the  British  nomenclature.  I  can  give,  for  instance,  noth- 
ing to  correspond  with  the  recent  official  announcement 
from  Oxford  that  Mr.  So-and-so,  Wilde  Reader  in 
Mental  Philosophy,  has  become  an  Extraordinary  Fel- 
low of  Corpus. 

Of  the  men  and  women  who  are  assistant,  associate, 
and  full  professors,  the  average  age  is  forty-six 
years.  They  have  held  professorial  rank  at  Colum- 
bia for  an  average  of  seven  years.  Seventy  have  earned 
the  Ph.D.  degree  in  course.  Two  hundred  and  thirty- 
four  give  presumably  their  whole  time  to  the  University ; 
at  any  rate,  their  service  elsewhere  is  incidental.  Forty- 
eight  professors,  thirty-two  of  these  physicians,  frankly 
divide  their  time  between  university  and  other  inter- 
ests. 

The  aggregate  number  of  changes  (appointments,  pro- 
motions, and  the  like)  of  1912-13  in  the  teaching  and 
administrative  staff  was  136.  The  changes  since  Mr. 
Low's  inauguration  in  1890  make  a  total  of  2,460. 

From  the  very  first  a  notable  characteristic  of  the 


COMPLEXITY  AND  DIVERSITY  147 

Columbia  staff  has  been  the  wide  diversity  of  academic 
provenance.  In  King's  College,  Johnson  was  from  Yale, 
Cutting  from  Eton  and  Cambridge,  Treadwell  from 
Harvard,  Harper  from  Glasgow,  Cooper  from  Oxford. 
The  original  medical  school  was  mainly  under  Edin- 
burgh influence,  but  Leyden  and  London  and  Paris  had 
their  share.  Of  our  own  alumni,  the  first  to  receive  a 
professorial  appointment  was  Vardill,  in  1773.  Early 
in  the  nineteenth  century  there  was  a  period  of  inbreed- 
ing, and  for  some  years  Columbia  College  was  in  charge 
of  a  faculty  composed  wholly  of  its  own  alumni.  Later 
came  a  notable  group  of  West  Point  men :  Davies,  Hack- 
ley,  Vinton,  Peck,  Trowbridge.  After  1857,  Nairne  rep- 
resented Scotch  scholarship;  Lieber,  and  later  Chand- 
ler and  Burgess,  the  German  ideals  of  education;  Egle- 
ston  the  brilliant  qualities  of  French  scientific  training. 
Burgess  was  the  first  of  a  distinguished  and  strikingly 
large  group  of  Amherst  men,  most  of  them  disciples 
in  his  own  field  of  political  science. 

Due,  I  think,  to  Barnard's  stimulating  influence  and 
to  his  establishment  of  alumni  fellowships,  a  striking 
proportion  of  the  men  who  graduated  from  Columbia 
during  his  administration  entered  academic  life.  A  few 
went  elsewhere,  notably  Ashmore  to  Union,  Hopkins  to 
Yale,  and  Ely  to  Wisconsin,  but  the  majority  remained 
at  Columbia.  Of  these  there  are  now  in  service  as  full 
professors,  twenty-six  men. 

Under  Mr.  Low  not  only  did  men  like  Brander  Mat- 
thews, Crocker,  and  MacDowell  come  into  academic  life, 
but  Columbia  robbed  her  sisters  elsewhere  right  and  left. 
Osborn  and  Sloane  were  called  from  Princeton ;  Keener, 
Cohn,  and  Burr  from  Harvard;  Robinson  and  Cattell 
from  Pennsylvania,  to  be  followed  in  the  next  admin- 
istration by  Seager  and  Devine  and  Lindsay.    Our  worst 


148  TEACHERS  AND  EXECUTIVES 

robberies,  however,  have  been  due  to  the  well-deserved 
reputation  acquired  by  Miss  Thomas  for  her  skill 
in  picking  promising  academic  material — Wilson,  Gid- 
dings,  Lee,  Earle,  Lodge,  and  Morgan  were  all  called 
from  Bryn  Mawr.  The  newer  institutions  west  of  the 
AUeghanies  are  to-day  promising  fields  for  plunder. 
John  Dewey,  and  later  Alexander  Smith,  came  from 
Chicago;  Abbott  and  Suzzallo  from  Leland  Stanford; 
Harper  and  Cunliffe  from  Wisconsin.  Some  of  our  own 
alumni  have  recently  returned  either  from  professional 
life,  like  Walker  and  Slichter  to  the  Engineering  School 
and  Stone  to  the  Law  School ;  or  like  Baldwin,  Burnside, 
and  Zinsser  from  professorships  elsewhere.  With  the 
new  spirit  in  the  Medical  School,  the  old  policy  of  tak- 
ing none  but  its  own  graduates  into  service  has  passed, 
and  men  have  recently  been  called  from  Johns  Hop- 
kins, Cornell,  Pennsylvania,  and  Chicago. 

To  return  to  the  question  of  degrees,  an  analysis  made 
a  year  or  so  ago  showed  that  more  than  two-thirds  of 
the  professors  received  the  first  degree  from  some  other 
institution.  Among  267  professors,  78  institutions  were 
represented  by  one  or  more  graduates.  Seventy-five  first 
degrees  were  from  Columbia,  25  from  Harvard,  19  from 
Yale,  13  from  Amherst,  10  from  Princeton,  9  from  the 
College  of  the  City  of  New  York,  5  each  from  Williams 
and  Toronto,  and  4  from  Johns  Hopkins.  The  faculties 
include  13  who  hold  the  degree  of  doctor  of  philosophy 
from  Johns  Hopkins,  9  from  Harvard,  24  from  other 
American  universities,  and  22  from  foreign  institutions. 

A  community  so  large  is  necessarily  composed,  of  all 
sorts  and  conditions.  Our  collection  includes  every 
known  type  of  professor.  We  have  the  faithful  stay-at- 
home,  who  boasted  that  he  had  never  missed  an  academic 
exercise  in  eighteen  years  ("  What  a  barren  existence!  " 


COMPLEXITY  AND  DIVERSITY  149 

was  the  president's  comment),  and  we  have  the  men 
who  are  always  going  away  to  the  ends  of  the  earth — 
Jackson  to  Persia  and  India,  Shepherd  to  South  America, 
Crampton  to  Polynesia.  All  our  anthropologists  have 
been  initiated  into  remote  Indian  tribes. 

We  have  men  of  simplicity  and  modesty,  and  these 
include  our  most  distinguished;  and  we  have  a  few  suf- 
ferers from  la  folie  des  grandeurs.  There  are  those  who 
try  to  do  everything,  even  the  minutest  details,  them- 
selves and  those  who  turn  over  everything,  even  matters 
of  constructive  policy,  to  the  first-comer.  The  man  who 
is  insolvent  at  the  end  of  the  month  works  cheek  by 
jowl  with  the  man  of  wealth.  An  engineering  expert 
once  complained  to  me  that  to  be  a  professor  was  a  lux- 
ury which  cost  him  some  fifty  dollars  a  day. 

Our  men  are  shortsighted  and  far-seeing,  legal-minded 
and  anarchistic.  We  have  men  of  startling  views  on 
all  subjects.  Some  proclaim  them  from  the  house-tops; 
others,  equally  courageous,  do  not.  An  excellent  com- 
ment on  this  particular  aspect  of  academic  freedom  was 
not  long  ago  printed  in  the  Quarterly:  "  A  professor 
will  not  always  wish  to  teach  everything  that  he  pri- 
vately believes  to  be  true — not  because  he  is  afraid,  but 
because  he  is  modest.  There  is  such  a  thing  as  an  intel- 
lectual discretion  which  has  nothing  to  do  with  theory. 
Just  in  proportion  as  he  is  permeated  with  the  scientific 
spirit,  he  will  know  that  human  institutions  do  not  fol- 
low a  law  of  logic;  that  opinions  are  in  constant  flux, 
and  that  all  social  opinions  have  their  historical  justifi- 
cation. ...  He  will  even  count  on  the  possibility  of 
himself  changing  his  mind." 

Every  academic  community,  including  our  own,  has 
its  share  of  men  who  through  age  or  illness,  often 
through  overwork,  have  lost  their  grip,  whose  flames  have 


150  TEACHERS  AND  EXECUTIVES 

burned  out.  Sometimes,  indeed,  the  flame  was  never 
more  than  an  ignis  fatuus.  It  is,  however,  less  true  to- 
day than  when  it  was  written,  that  there  is  no  profession 
where  failure  to  pull  one's  own  weight  can  go  so  long 
undiscovered  as  in  teaching.  Even  in  these  days  of  Car- 
negie pensions,  permanence  of  tenure,  that  fundamental 
asset  of  the  teacher's  career,  involves  necessarily  the 
presence  of  dead  wood;  and  our  trustees  have  learned, 
after  some  costly  and  painful  experiments,  that  it  is  bet- 
ter in  many  cases  to  pay  an  additional  salary  and  work 
around  an  academic  obstruction  than  forcibly  to  re- 
move it. 

It  was  not  until  Mr.  Low's  time  that  the  faculty  as 
a  social  unit  came  into  being.  In  the  early  days  the 
trustees  were  solicitous  as  to  the  souls  of  the  professors ; 
at  any  rate,  the  president  was  instructed  in  1846  to 
report  their  attendance  on  daily  prayers;  and  as  late 
as  1877  their  duties  as  teachers  were  specified  in  the  mi- 
nutest detail.  Otherwise  the  records  show  nothing  re- 
garding the  professors  as  a  group,  although  as  indi- 
viduals they  received  appropriate  consideration.  The 
first  informal  gathering  of  the  professors  as  a  body  was 
in  Mr.  Low's  house  in  March,  1890,  to  discuss  general 
problems  of  organization.  Of  the  thirty-four  men  then 
gathered  together  but  three  are  now  in  teaching  service. 
The  new  spirit  promptly  made  itself  felt  through  the 
establishment  of  retiring  allowances  and  arrangements 
for  sabbatical  leave  of  absence. 

University  teas  and  faculty  receptions  were  later  es- 
tablished and  the  President's  House,  recently  finished, 
is  designed  primarily  as  a  social  center  for  the  university 
community.  In  1906  one  of  the  older  buildings  at  Mom- 
ingside,  with  no  little  charm  of  a  mid- Victorian  kind. 


SOCIAL  RELATIONS  151 

was  made  into  a  Faculty  Club.  This  has  to-day  become 
one  of  the  most  vital  forces  in  the  institution.  It  has 
been  possible  to  keep  the  scale  of  things  much  simpler 
than  in  similar  clubs  elsewhere,  with  the  result  that  the 
membership  includes  practically  all  the  University  men, 
including  those  in  the  lowest  ranks.  Our  neighbors  from 
the  Seminary,  the  Hospital,  and  the  Cathedral  are  also 
welcome.  The  fact  that  one  hundred  and  fifty  men  take 
luncheon  together  every  day  makes  the  club  a  potent 
influence  against  intellectual  isolation  and  departmental 
provincialism.  It  is  a  great  place  for  the  crossing  of 
intellectual  wires  and,  thanks  to  its  existence,  ideas  are 
no  longer  carried  from  classroom  to  classroom,  *  *  if  at  all, 
subterraneously  by  students,  as  the  plague  is  carried 
from  house  to  house  by  rats. ' '  The  mathematicians  and 
philosophers,  for  example,  have  been  conducting  here  an 
intellectual  flirtation  of  several  years'  duration.  There 
is  also  a  club  within  the  club — the  Every  Other  Saturday 
(which  meets  on  alternate  "Wednesdays). 

It  is  an  eminently  free-speaking  community.  If,  as 
Professor  Keyser  has  pointed  out,  your  man  of  letters 
or  student  of  linguistics  describes  his  colleague  of  the 
laboratory  as  a  sublimated  tinker,  the  latter  may  with 
equal  amiability  respond  by  a  reference  to  a  philological 
rodent  who  spends  his  days  gnawing  at  the  root  of  a 
verb.  After  luncheon  every  day  there  are  a  number  of 
games  of  chess,  for  chess,  followed  by  tennis  and  hand- 
ball, is  the  leading  faculty  sport.  In  the  evenings  are 
held  the  informal  faculty  dinners,  which  are  proving  a 
much  more  effective  means  of  getting  things  done  wisely 
than  the  formal  meetings  with  gavel  and  ballot  box  in 
the  Trustees'  Room.  So  also  are  the  meetings  of  the  de- 
partmental clubs. 

The  women  of  the  University  have  recently  organized 


152  TEACHERS  AND  EXECUTIVES 

their  own  Faculty  Club,  which  has  its  own  headquarters 
and  is  growing  rapidly. 

The  University  Quarterly  deserves  mention  as  a  fac- 
ulty organ,  for  perhaps  its  chief  service  is  as  an  inter- 
preter of  the  members  of  the  staff  to  one  another.  Any- 
thing that  a  professor  may  write  in  its  pages  is  carefully 
read  by  hundreds  of  his  colleagues,  and  the  policy  of 
devoting  a  special  issue  to  the  work  of  some  particular 
branch  of  the  institution  enables  the  men  in  other  parts 
to  practice  at  home  the  art  of  being  well  informed. 

The  economic  problems  of  the  professor  are  acute,  here 
as  elsewhere.  Professor  Clark  has  pointed  out  that  teach- 
ers are  hired  in  order  that  their  services  may  be  largely 
given  away.  They  bring  a  great  deal  of  wealth  into 
existence,  but  not  in  a  way  that  enables  them  to  get  much 
of  it  under  their  control  and  collect  the  pay  for  it.  The 
teacher's  only  economic  hold  is  that  he  must  be  lured 
into  teaching  from  some  other  possible  occupation.  As 
indeed  Professor  J.  J.  Thompson  once  told  us  at  Com- 
mencement, it  is  not  possible  for  even  the  purest  scien- 
tist to  live  on  nothing.  The  Columbia  professors  proba- 
bly regard  their  poverty  as  more  grinding  than  that  of 
their  contemporaries  in  smaller  centers,  on  account  of 
the  higher  cost  of  living  in  the  city,  plus,  if  they  be  hon- 
est, the  greater  opportunities  for  the  pleasant  expendi- 
ture of  money  in  the  fields  that  lie  between  necessity  and 
luxury.  On  the  other  hand,  they  have,  to  say  nothing 
of  the  opportunities  for  earning  money,  one  great  asset. 
In  a  great  city  there  are  quite  as  many  different  stand- 
ards of  living  as  there  are  professorships,  and  there  is  no 
inconvenient  norm  to  which  all  must  conform.  If  a  man 
wishes  to  live  his  home  life  without  reference  to  that  of 
his  colleagues,  he  can  be  swallowed  up  by  the  city  as 
effectually  as  by  a  quicksand.    Indeed,  it  is  one  charm 


A  WORKING  COMMUNITY  153 

of  our  social  relations  with  one  another  that,  unlike  that 
of  the  army  post  or  the  small  college  town,  they  are  not 
inevitable  but  voluntary. 

It  may  be  of  some  comfort  to  the  Columbia  teacher 
to  know  that,  of  the  twenty-one  other  institutions  in  the 
Association  of  American  Universities,  none  expends 
within  $300,000  as  much  as  does  Columbia  for  teachers' 
salaries  annually,  and  in  only  two  cases  is  a  larger  pro- 
portion of  the  total  expense  of  the  university  devoted  to 
this  purpose. 

A  faculty  apartment  house  is  greatly  needed,  for 
by  the  irony  of  fate  the  very  work  that  the  professors 
of  Columbia  have  done  to  increase  the  prestige  of  the 
University  is  compelling  them  to  move  farther  and 
farther  from  her  doors.  The  charms  of  living  in  the 
university  environment  are  attracting  numbers  of  per- 
sons in  comfortable  circumstances  to  its  vicinity,  thereby 
raising  the  rents  of  nearby  apartment  houses  to  a  figure 
that  is  prohibitive  to  all  but  the  most  favored  of  the 
University  officers. 

The  faculty  as  a  whole  are  rather  notably  a  hard- 
working lot,  both  because  they  have  to  and  because  they 
like  it.  The  general  administration  does  its  best  to 
lighten  routine  chores.  The  trustees  realize  that  the 
professor  is  the  goose  that  lays  the  golden  egg  (we  have 
to  thank  the  New  York  Evening  Post  for  the  metaphor), 
and  that  there  is  no  better  way  to  kill  the  animal  intel- 
lectually than  by  overfeeding  with  trivial  tasks.  Prac- 
tically every  married  man,  without  private  means,  has 
however  to  add  to  his  income  by  outside  work,  and  very 
few  are  willing  to  rest  on  their  laurels  as  to  scholarship 
and  production.  Columbia  is  probably  no  better  and  no 
worse  than  other  American  universities  in  the  matter 


154  TEACHERS  AND  EXECUTIVES 

of  overloading  her  men.  As  to  whether  this  overloading 
is  a  serious  menace  one  can  get  an  authoritative  opinion 
on  either  side.  One  of  our  optimistic  professors  says 
that  the  fortunate  combination  of  teaching  and  research, 
so  peculiarly  American,  makes  the  life  of  the  university 
instructor  a  happy  one,  and  it  will  in  time  have  a  whole- 
some effect  upon  our  learning.  On  the  other  hand,  a  dis- 
tinguished visitor.  Professor  Bjerknes,  recently  assured 
us  that,  if  he  had  been  required  to  do  as  much  teach- 
ing and  administrative  work  as  we  do,  he  would  never 
have  been  invited  to  lecture  here  in  a  difficult  branch 
of  science.  At  any  rate,  the  atmosphere  of  hard  work 
and  the  broader  interests  of  the  large  city  free  our  men 
from  petty  jealousies  and  controversies.  To  quote  Dr. 
Slosson  once  more:  "  The  Columbia  professors  do  not 
worry  themselves  or  worry  each  other  as  they  are  apt  to 
do  in  smaller  faculty  communities.  .  .  .  Conservative 
and  radical,  orthodox  and  heterodox,  commingle  without 
self-consciousness,  and  each  man  views  the  eccentricity 
of  his  colleague  with  a  colorless  or  indifferent  eye.  In 
criticising  the  ideals  or  the  actions  of  another  he  does 
not  resort  to  a  whisper  or  a  roar,  but  uses  the  same  tone 
of  voice  as  though  he  were  expressing  an  unfavorable 
opinion  of  the  weather. ' ' 

On  the  other  hand,  our  men  are  not  too  busy  to  ar- 
range dinners  or  prepare  Festschriften  in  honor  of  col- 
leagues who  have  passed  some  milestone  of  academic 
service.  Not  a  year  passes  without  one  or  more  such 
tributes.  Perhaps  the  most  interesting  was  the  publica- 
tion in  1908  of  a  volume  of  essays  by  Columbia  men  in 
honor  of  a  Harvard  professor,  "William  James.  Of  the 
nineteen  essays,  eight  were  by  former  pupils  of  James 
now  in  the  Columbia  faculties.  Last  year  we  all  gath- 
ered in  the  Faculty  Club  to  bid  Professor  Goodnow 


PROFESSORS  AND  STUDENTS  155 

Godspeed  before  he  left  for  Pekin  to  take  up  the  duties 
of  Constitutional  Adviser  to  the  Chinese  Republic. 

We  are  not,  alas,  without  our  academic  intolerances 
and  we  have  suffered  from  them.  Teachers  College,  now 
that  she  is  powerful  and  prosperous,  would  be  easier  to 
get  along  with  if,  when  she  entered  the  University  a 
dozen  years  ago,  some  of  the  members  of  the  older  fac- 
ulties had  been  more  willing  to  regard  pedagogy  as  a 
socially  respectable  calling.  Speaking  broadly,  the  men 
in  the  natural  sciences  and  their  applications  are  now 
in  the  saddle  and  are  rather  prone  to  look  down  upon 
their  less  fortunate  colleagues,  just  as  the  classicists  did 
not  so  long  ago,  and  as,  unless  signs  fail,  the  men  in  the 
social,  or  as  Professor  Cattell  calls  them  the  *  *  unnatural 
sciences  "  will  be  doing  before  many  years. 

In  no  respect  has  there  been  a  greater  change  between 
the  old  and  the  new  Columbia  than  in  the  relations  be- 
tween faculty  and  students.  In  the  old  days  a  great 
gulf  was  fixed ;  to-day  there  is  practically  no  line  drawn 
between  the  two.  Even  in  the  late  seventies  the  student 
editorials  laid  all  undergraduate  troubles  at  the  door 
of  faculty  exclusiveness  and  aloofness,  and,  when  Pro- 
fessor Merriam  established  an  informal  volunteer  class 
in  Greek,  the  event  was  striking  enough  to  be  signalized 
by  a  resolution  of  appreciation  from  the  trustees.  The 
individual  professors  who  were  willing  to  descend  from 
Olympus  stood  out  sharply.  The  extraordinary  popu- 
larity among  the  alumni  of  Van  Amringe  and  Chandler 
was  due  primarily  to  their  endeavor  to  understand  the 
point  of  view  of  these  same  men  when  they  were  stu- 
dents. By  trying  to  look  at  things  through  the  student's 
eyes  they  saw  his  difficulties  and  were  better  able  to  help 
him  in  their  solution.     Professor  "  Billy  "  Peck  was 


156  TEACliERS  AND  EXECUTIVES 

humanly  interested  in  his  students.  So  also  were  Ware, 
Boyesen,  and  Sprague  Smith.  So  doubtless  were  others, 
but  it  was  not  imtil  the  coming  of  the  men  whom  Presi- 
dent Low  gathered  about  him  that  this  became  the  rule 
rather  than  the  exception,  and  Columbia  grew  to  be,  in 
Newman's  phrase,  a  real  Alma  Mater,  knowing  her  chil- 
dren one  by  one,  not  a  foundry  or  a  mint  or  a  tread- 
mill. 

One  very  important  feature  in  the  relations  between 
officers  and  students  is  brought  about  by  the  high  rentals 
in  New  York  City.  Because  of  these,  practically  none 
of  the  professors  can  afford  to  have  studies  at  home,  and 
they  spend  nearly  all  of  their  working  hours  at  the  Uni- 
versity. It  has  since  Barnard's  time  been  the  policy 
of  the  trustees  to  make  provision  for  the  independent 
work  of  its  officers  on  the  grounds,  and  every  professor 
has  his  own  office.  As  a  result  the  student  can  almost  al- 
ways find  the  professor  when  he  wants  him.  This  may  and 
does  involve  considerable  interruption  to  the  professor, 
hardly  more  perhaps  than  he  would  have  in  his  own 
home,  but  it  means  on  the  other  hand  a  very  great  privi- 
lege to  the  students  who  are  interested  in  their  work. 

In  its  different  parts  there  are  many  things  at  the 
University  to  bring  officers  and  students  naturally  to- 
gether: the  honors  work  in  the  College,  the  preparation 
of  dissertations  and  seminar  papers  for  graduate  stu- 
dents, the  architectural  ateliers,  the  geological  and  en- 
gineering trips,  the  various  aspects  of  social  and  reli- 
gious work.  And  this  does  not  benefit  the  student 
alone.  The  chance  to  multiply  one's  efficiency  by  the 
aid  of  a  devoted  band  of  able  young  disciples  is  no 
doubt  part  of  the  drawing  power  of  the  great  universi- 
ties. Dr.  Keen  calls  students  the  best  whips  and  spurs 
that  he  knows,  and  one  of  our  younger  men  has  pointed 


PROFESSORS  AND  STUDENTS  157 

out  that  the  undergraduate,  intensely  interested  as  he 
is  in  everything  about  him,  knows  life  crudely  perhaps, 
but  clearly.  He  has  curiosity  in  a  high  degree.  He  is 
worldly  wise.  He  has  something  to  give  the  instructor 
as  well  as  to  receive.  Another  says  that  both  students 
and  teachers  of  Columbia  care  most  for  the  scholarship 
that  is  productive,  and  their  relation  is  probably  to  a 
higher  degree  that  of  collaboration  than  at  any  other 
institution  in  the  United  States. 

Without  losing  in  dignity,  the  professors  take  care 
that  they  do  not  grow  away  from  the  students.  One 
professor  whose  college  diploma  was  signed  more  than 
twenty  years  ago  can  and  does  beat  the  best  of  the 
undergraduates  at  tennis,  another  in  fencing.  For  more 
than  a  decade  there  has  been  a  faculty-senior  baseball 
game  at  Commencement,  and  the  faculty  has  usually 
won.  There  are  also  matches  in  golf  and  chess.  One 
professor  from  the  goodness  of  his  heart  coaches  the  de- 
bating team,  another  the  Elizabethan  plays.  Following 
the  example  set  by  Professor  Woodberry  in  King's 
Crown  and  Professor  Pellew  in  the  Chemical  Society, 
many  men  give  much  of  their  time  to  the  work  of  dif- 
ferent departmental  societies. 

The  need  of  these  personal  relations  is  officially  recog- 
nized in  a  system  of  faculty  advisers  in  the  under- 
graduate schools.  To  speak  frankly,  these  formal 
schemes,  though  they  have  their  place  as  a  sort  of  offi- 
cial insureince  that  no  student  will  be  overlooked,  are 
less  successful  than'  are  the  more  informal  relations. 
One  adviser  recently  confessed  that,  while  the  students 
show  their  delightful  tolerance  for  all  the  mysterious — 
and  to  them  often  whimsical — projects  of  their  elders, 
the  only  advice  they  want  or  are  willing  to  take  is  semi- 
legal advice  in  the  technical  method  of  getting  around 


158  TEACHERS  AND  EXECUTIVES 

some  inconvenient  University  regulation.     This,  how- 
ever, is  perhaps  as  it  should  be. 

The  Columbia  faculty  is  a  producing  community  and 
it  is  less  affected  than  is  commonly  the  case  by  the 
current  claptrap  as  to  the  capricious  sanctity  of  re- 
search. By  this  I  do  not  mean  that  the  importance  of 
the  discovery  of  new  truth  and  the  responsibility  of  the 
universities  to  the  world  for  such  discoveries  are  not 
appreciated  by  our  professors.  They  realize,  however, 
that,  barring  exceptions  at  the  extremes,  the  distinction 
between  research  and  so-called  hack  or  commercial  work 
is  mainly  one  of  attitude.  In  the  words  of  one  of  the 
world's  most  distinguished  contributors  to  pure  science, 
Professor  E.  B.  Wilson,  the  aim  of  a  Lister  or  a  Pasteur 
is  not  less  lofty  than  that  of  a  Darwin  or  a  Eyell ;  what 
counts  is  the  spirit  in  which  the  work  is  done.  The  men 
do  what  their  hands  find  to  do,  and  do  it  with  their 
might.  The  fact  that  Pupin's  researches  upon  the  con- 
servation of  electric  current  made  him  a  wealthy  man 
does  not  detract  from  their  scientific  value,  nor  should 
we  think  the  less  of  the  assistant  in  our  botanical  labo- 
ratory because  he  stumbled,  while  testing  grain  seeds, 
upon  a  new  and  profitable  breakfast  food.  At  the 
Medical  School  the  work  of  our  clinicians  is  no  less  schol- 
arly because  it  will  save  many  human  lives,  and  is  no 
more  and  no  less  appreciated  as  science  than  are  the 
researches  in  the  less  practical  field  of  comparative 
anatomy.  The  men  in  Teachers  College  are  particularly 
fortunate  in  combining  sound  scholarship  and  imme- 
diate usefulness.  The  lessons  of  our  children  will 
be  freed  from  much  unnecessary  drudgery  through 
Lodge 's  vocabulary  of  all  the  Latin  words  that  one  will 
ever  have  need  to  look  up,  and  Smith's  sensible  mathe- 


PUBLICATION  159 

matical  tests.  Monroe's  Cyclopedia  of  Education  and 
the  collections  of  original  documents  being  made  by 
Giddings  and  Shotwell  may  be  called  hack  work,  if 
you  like,  but  it  does  not  lessen  their  value.  In  the  vig- 
orous and,  to  us,  rather  un-British  advertising  of  the  new 
Encyclopedia  Britannica  we  are  by  no  means  humili- 
ated in  finding  the  names  and  counterfeit  presentments 
of  so  many  of  our  colleagues. 

Not  the  least  useful  part  of  our  recent  production 
has  been  in  family  lectures,  where  the  men  in  different 
fields  of  science  and  letters  get  up  and  describe  to  their 
colleagues,  in  terms  as  simple  as  possible,  the  work  to 
which  they  are  devoting  their  lives,  and  explain  why 
it  is  worth  while.  Three  volumes  of  these  lectures  have 
recently  been  published  by  the  University  Press. 

The  common  or  garden  text-book  is  judged  upon  its 
real  merits  by  the  writer's  colleagues,  and  not  only 
financial  return  but  academic  honor  came  in  the  past 
from  Anthon's  editions  and  Davies'  Legendre.  These 
books,  we  are  proud  to  remember,  first  introduced  into 
the  United  States  the  fruits  of  German  classical  and 
archseological  scholarship  and  the  then  new  French 
mathematics.  It  comes  to-day,  to  name  only  a  few  among 
many,  from  the  collections  of  cases  made  by  Keener  and 
Burdiek,  from  the  engineering  text-books  of  Burr  and 
Crocker,  from  Robinson  and  Beard's  histories,  and 
McMurry's  or  Dodge's  geographies. 

Nor  is  the  editor  without  honor  in  his  own  country. 
How  President  Butler  finds  time  with  his  countless 
other  duties  to  conduct  the  Educational  Review  no  one 
knows,  but  the  fact  that  he  does  is  appreciated,  as  is 
Munroe  Smith's  work  for  the  Political  Science  Quar- 
terly, Todd's  for  the  Romanic  Review,  and  Tombo's  for 
the  University  Quarterly.    Cattell's  brilliant  editorship 


160  TEACHERS  AND  EXECUTIVES 

of  Science  and  the  Popular  Science  Monthly,  even  when 
he  uses  them  to  tell  us  our  sins  of  omission  and  commis- 
sion as  a  university,  and  possibly  because  of  this  use, 
endears  him  to  us  all.  He  himself  is  a  living  proof  that 
we  have  some  academic  freedom,  at  any  rate. 

The  University  Bibliography  is  printed  each  year  and 
gives  thirty  or  more  closely  printed  pages  to  the  indi- 
vidual contributions  of  officers.  Of  course  some  of  these 
records  are  padded — there  is  one  case  of  a  man  whose 
mere  list  of  titles  for  a  single  year  covered  nearly  four 
pages — but  the  record  as  a  whole  is  one  of  which  the 
University  may  well  be  proud.  The  fact  that  each  year 
several  publications  by  our  colleagues  are  translated  into 
foreign  languages,  Oriental  as  well  as  European,  is  par- 
ticularly pleasant.  It  is  refreshing  to  see  how  reluctant 
our  academic  cobblers  are  to  stick  to  their  lasts. 
We  find  engineers,  architects,  and  psychiatrists  writing 
poetry,  a  zoologist  who  writes  authoritatively  on  me- 
diaeval armor,  a  classicist  on  current  American  politics, 
an  experimental  psychologist  on  radical  democracy,  a 
mathematician  discussing  Swedenborg. 

A  man  need  not  find  his  way  into  print  to  be  appre- 
ciated by  his  colleagues.  It  is  recognized  that  the  prod- 
uct of  the  deep  scholarship  of  some  men,  like  the  late 
Professor  Price,  is  to  be  found  in  the  scholarship  of 
younger  men  who  sat  at  their  feet  rather  than  in  books. 
Others  give  their  energies  largely  to  the  upbuilding  of 
departmental  equipment.  The  really  excellent  labora- 
tory equipment  in  mining  is  mainly  home-made,  and 
this,  by  the  way,  is  true  to  the  traditions  of  our  School 
of  Mines,  for  in  its  early  struggles  the  professors  drew 
the  plans  and  superintended  the  work  for  the  first  labo- 
ratory. Professor  Curtis  has  given  useful  years  to  the 
collection  and  preparation  of  samples  of  our  local  trees, 


TEACHING  161 

and  the  Chandler  Chemical  Museum  will  be  a  permanent 
and  fitting  memorial  to  the  man  who  gathered  its  con- 
tents together. 

For  a  time  it  looked  as  though  these  multitudinous 
activities  were  crowding  out,  or  turning  over  to  begin- 
ners, the  more  prosaic  duties  of  undergraduate  teaching, 
but  the  pendulum  is  swinging  to-day  in  the  other  direc- 
tion, and  the  words  of  Solomon,  although  addressed  to 
the  student  rather  than  to  the  teacher,  express  fairly 
enough  the  present  attitude  of  our  faculties:  "  Take 
fast  hold  of  instruction,  let  her  not  go;  keep  her,  for 
she  is  thy  life."  In  official  words:  "  We  are  trying 
by  increasing  the  compensation  of  the  undergraduate 
teachers,  by  adding  to  their  dignity  and  prestige  in  vari- 
ous ways,  to  make  it  clear  that  we  put  as  high  a  value 
upon  first-class  teaching  as  we  do  upon  research  and 
investigation.  We  hold  that  the  two  things  are  differ- 
ent, but  we  hesitate  to  subordinate  either  to  the  other. ' ' 
Appointments  to  the  undergraduate  faculties  are  now  of 
short  tenure,  to  the  end  that  the  men  who  actually  con- 
trol the  College  will  always  be  the  men  who  do  the  col- 
lege work.  In  the  Eeport  of  1857  I  came  upon  the 
following  characteristic  pronouncement  of  Lieber  's :  *  *  A 
good  and  true  teacher  ought  to  possess  the  solar  quality 
of  shedding  light,  and  warmth-evoking  light. ' '  The  rela- 
tion of  the  great  teacher  to  the  great  investigator  has 
been  well  compared  to  that  between  the  great  musical 
performer  and  the  composer. 

The  College  has  come  to  recognize  a  real  danger  in 
the  careless  appointment  of  young  men  to  be  tried  out 
on  the  undergraduate.  In  the  first  place,  if  he  is  not 
good  enough  to  be  called  elsewhere  and  does  not  die  or 
commit  a  crime,  the  chances  are  excellent  for  good- 
natured  promotion  as  the  years  go  on,  until  such  a  man 


162  TEACHERS  AND  EXECUTIVES 

is  moved  up  to  a  position  where  his  mediocrity  becomes 
painfully  evident,  not  as  at  first  to  the  undergraduate 
only,  but  to  the  entire  academic  community.  In  the 
opinion  of  one  of  our  men,  who  is  deliberately  giving 
his  life  to  undergraduate  teaching  in  the  face  of  blan- 
dishments from  his  colleagues  in  the  graduate  schools, 
it  is  not  only  as  dangerous  to  start  a  thousand-dollar 
man  in  the  College  as  in  the  University,  but  the  almost 
unvarying  practice  based  on  the  contrary  assumption  has 
done  much  to  lower  the  dignity  of  college  teaching  and 
make  promotions  seem  always  from  undergraduate  to 
graduate  instruction. 

Our  community  has  a  pretty  shrewd  idea  as  to  who 
are  its  strong  men,  though  they  may  not  make  the 
longest  speeches  in  faculty  meetings  or  be  pictured  in 
the  popular  magazines.  When  promotions  are  an- 
nounced, we  sometimes  think  that  we  know  better  even 
than  the  trustees,  but  on  the  whole  the  judgment  of  our 
overlords  corresponds  pretty  closely  with  our  own. 

The  close  life  of  the  University  has  its  hard  side  when 
the  ranks  are  broken  by  death : 

**  But  yesterday  we  saw  him  face  to  face, 
Colleague  and  comrade,  gentle,  modest,  wise ; 
In  vain  to-day  in  his  accustomed  place. 
We  wait  to  win  a  welcome  from  his  eyes.'* 

It  is  hard  even  when  the  one  who  has  gone  has  enjoyed 
long  years  of  distinguished  service,  as  did  Rood  and 
Price.  It  is  harder  when,  like  Boyesen  and  Merriam 
and  Mayo-Smith  and  Canfield,  they  had  barely  passed 
the  zenith  of  their  useful  careers.  It  is  hardest  of  all 
when  they  are  struck  down  in  early  life,  with  the  future 


IN  MEMORIAM  163 

shining  bright  before  them.  In  my  own  experience  of 
a  dozen  years,  Columbia  has  lost  Tufts  and  Townsend, 
brilliant  physicists ;  Earle  and  Olcott,  classical  scholars  of 
distinction ;  Tucker  and  Carmalt,  Hiss  and  Herter,  from 
the  front  ranks  of  the  Medical  School.  One  of  our  finest 
academic  addresses  was  Herter 's  on  **  Idealism  in  Medi- 
cine." It  was  of  Miller,  as  a  student  a  famous  inter- 
collegiate athlete,  and  as  a  teacher  and  investigator  a 
tower  of  strength  in  the  School  of  Chemistry,  that  Frank 
Dempster  Sherman  wrote  the  lines  quoted  above.  Mac- 
Dowell's  fatal  illness  was  peculiarly  tragic.  He  was  rec- 
ognized in  the  University  as  a  man  not  only  of  genius, 
but  of  rare  and  beautiful  character.  The  circumstances 
of  his  leaving  its  service  first  revealed  the  nature  and 
progress  of  this  illness  and  his  breakdown  filled 
every  member  of  our  academic  community  with  the  sin- 
cerest  sorrow.  The  Union  Seminary  has  recently  lost 
two  strong  men,  President  Hall  and  Professor  6.  W. 
Knox,  who  had  made  themselves  dear  to  the  University 
community.  Knox  in  particular  had  voluntarily  con- 
ducted a  college  course  in  religion,  which  brought  him 
the  esteem  and  affection  of  the  undergraduates  and 
their  teachers. 

No  loss,  however,  came  so  close  to  many  of  us  as 
that  of  George  Rice  Carpenter,  whose  simplicity  and 
modesty  of  character  disguised,  until  the  appraisal  that 
comes  with  death,  the  fact  that  he  had  been  not  alone  the 
most  lovable  of  companions,  the  most  helpful  of  friends  to 
students  and  colleagues  alike,  but  also  one  of  the  most 
powerful  forces  in  making  Columbia  what  she  is  to-day. 
* '  No  one  could  be  more  patient  than  he.  He  achieved  his 
end  by  no  rapid  flight,  but  by  overcoming  barriers  one 
by  one,  quietly,  systematically,  carefully,  without  loss 
of  energy  and  with  wonderful  self-control.    Few  minds 


164  TEACHERS  AND  EXECUTIVES 

have  united  more  method  with  more  eagerness  than  his. 
His  firmness  accomplished  much.  His  courtesy,  humor, 
and  tact  were  alike  unfailing  and  marvelous."  A  me- 
morial of  the  kind  which  he  himself  would  have  ap- 
proved has  been  erected  by  his  friends  in  the  George 
Rice  Carpenter  Library  of  the  Department  of  English. 

As  one  looks  back  it  seems  as  though  Columbia  has 
had  almost  more  than  her  share  not  only  of  distinguished 
but  of  picturesque  personalities.  There  are,  I  may  say 
in  passing,  men  as  picturesque  in  the  faculties  to-day, 
but  for  one  of  their  colleagues  to  call  attention  to  such 
picturesqueness  might  give  rise  to  misunderstanding. 
We  know,  for  example,  that  one  professor,  who  shall  be 
nameless,  arbitrarily  passed  certain  **  oldest  living  un- 
dergraduates "  after  repeated  failures,  upon  the  stu- 
dents' word  of  honor  that  they  would  never  attempt 
to  practice  their  profession.  Another  case  is  that  of  the 
assistant  who  was  called  upon  to  conduct  a  minor  gradu- 
ate course  because  the  professor  was  absent  on  leave, 
and  who  formally  enrolled  himself  as  one  of  his  own 
pupils,  and  at  the  conclusion  of  the  course  claimed  credit 
for  it  toward  the  doctor's  degree. 

The  men  who  stand  out  in  the  memory  of  the  old  boys 
were  not  all  professors.  To  the  students  Stephen  Weeks 
— janitor,  assistant  librarian,  proctor — was  for  years 
about  all  that  represented  devolved  authority.  His  sym- 
pathies, I  fear,  were  often  on  the  side  of  the  offender. 
In  those  days,  for  example,  no  one  might  smoke  on 
the  College  grounds.  In  administering  the  law.  Weeks 
would  call  the  culprit,  whom  of  course  he  knew  perfectly 
well — for  in  those  days  there  were  not  seven  thousand 
nor  seven  hundred  students — and,  producing  a  memo- 
randum book,  would  say,  **  Mr.  So-and-so  "  (I  must  not 


EARLIER  MEN  165 

be  more  specific,  for  my  informant  is  now  a  trustee), 
"  Mr.  So-and-so,  you  are  smoking;  please  give  me  your 
name  ";  and  he  would  solemnly  write  down  "  John 
Doe  "  or  whatever  the  inventive  student  was  pleased  to 
tell  him. 

"  Dean  "  Singer  in  my  day  held  court  in  a  janitorial 
cubby-hole  in  the  entrance  to  the  Forty-ninth  Street  Ham- 
ilton Hall,  and  used  indeed  to  perform  certain  unofficial 
but  essentially  diaconal  functions.  The  new  site  gave 
to  the  University  the  services  of  a  dear  old  Scotchman 
named  Spencer,  who,  thinking  of  the  old  Bloomingdale 
days,  always  referred  to  the  students  as  *  *  the  inmates. ' ' 
At  the  Medical  School,  Boag,  a  Confederate  veteran, 
matriculated  more  than  five  thousand  doctors  in  his 
forty-one  years  of  service,  and  remembered  them  all 
when  they  came  back  to  the  **  P.  &  S."  George  Fisher, 
a  whaler  whom  Chandler  had  brought  from  New  Bed- 
ford, and  who  rose  to  the  position  of  University  bursar, 
holds,  particularly  in  the  hearts  of  the  School  of  Mines 
graduates,  a  similar  place. 

Our  list  of  professorships  and  the  titles  of  our  fellow- 
ships, museums,  and  the  like  carry  back  our  thoughts, 
as  it  was  intended  they  should,  to  the  men  of  former 
years,  and  it  is  pleasant  to  study  in  detail  these  bonds 
between  the  past  and  the  present.  Janeway's  profes- 
sorship in  the  practice  of  medicine,  for  example,  takes 
us  back  to  John  Bard,  Huguenot  in  race  and  Royalist  in 
politics,  and  the  beloved  physician  of  George  Washing- 
ton. Seligman,  himself  a  member  of  a  famous  family 
of  bankers,  harks  back  to  McViekar,  who  formulated  the 
principles  on  which  our  national  banking  system  rests, 
and  who  served  as  professor  for  forty-seven  years — may 
Seligman  serve  as  long !  From  the  many-sided  Chandler 
we  look  back  to  the  many-sided  Mitchill,  who  as  a  pro- 


166  TEACHERS  AND  EXECUTIVES 

fessor  was  the  first  in  America  to  attack  the  sanctity 
of  phlogiston,  and  later  as  United  States  Senator  was 
largely  responsible  for  the  Lewis  and  Clark  expedition. 
In  mathematics  Keyser  is  linked  to  Adrain,  who  fought 
as  a  boy  in  the  Irish  Rebellion,  and  who  was  prominent 
in  his  day  in  mathematical  scholarship  and  as  an  inspirer 
of  scholarship  in  his  students,  notably  Professors  Ander- 
son and  Renwick.  Renwick's  son,  by  the  way,  born  on 
the  old  College  grounds,  was  at  the  time  of  his  death, 
a  year  or  so  ago,  the  oldest  Columbia  alumnus. 

The  appointment  recently  of  Harper  to  the  Torrey 
Professorship  reminds  us  of  the  curious  reason  why  John 
Torrey  became  one  of  the  really  great  American  scien- 
tists. His  father  was  a  prison-keeper,  and  it  was 
when  the  botanist  Eaton  was  incarcerated  for  debt  that 
the  boy  became  first  interested  in  nature.  Dunning 's 
chair  takes  us  back  to  Lieber,  the  friend  of  Humboldt. 
His  academic  and  public  services  have  been  dealt  with 
elsewhere,  but  not  his  very  human  personality  and  par- 
ticularly his  innocent  vanity.  One  of  our  alumni  has 
now  a  photograph  of  the  old  man  stripped  to  the  waist, 
which  had  been  taken  lest  the  lines  of  his  magnificent 
torso,  providentally  spared  at  Waterloo,  should  be  lost  to 
posterity. 

Rood's  degree  was  held  back  for  a  half  century  be- 
cause he  upset  the  life  of  a  venerable  neighbor  by  pierc- 
ing the  dial  of  the  college  clock  with  an  arrow.  When 
the  degree  came  it  was  an  honorary  one,  conferred  at 
the  Yale  Bi-centennial.  Rood  extended  help  to  Merriam 
and  other  colleagues  here  by  his  ingenious  electrotypes 
of  ancient  gems.  As  an  artist  he  was  clever  enough  to 
fake  an  antique  which  fooled  the  sharpest  of  them.  It 
is  amusing  to  remember  that  he  became  an  unwilling 
apostle  of  French  impressionism,  when  Claude  Monet 


EARLIER  MEN  167 

discovered  and  devoured  a  translation  of  his  book  on. 
chromatics.  Rood's  predecessor,  McCuUoh,  for  a  time 
under  an  official  cloud  because,  obeying  the  dictates  of 
his  conscience,  he  fought  for  his  native  South  in  the 
Civil  War,  is  now  remembered  as  a  man  of  great  power 
and  of  vivid  personality. 

The  obiter  dicta  of  Egleston,  who,  although  the  dis- 
tinguished founder  of  the  School  of  Mines,  was  known 
to  the  irreverent  as  **  Tommy  Rocks,"  and  those  of 
Short,  known  as  *  *  Saw-my-leg-off  ' '  Short,  were  secretly 
printed  and  may  be  found  by  the  curious  in  the  Colum- 
biana collection  of  the  library. 

The  Medical  School  has  always  had  its  men  of  mark. 
Following  Bard  and  Mitchill,  to  name  but  a  few,  came 
Parker,  Clark,  and  Dalton,  the  first  American  who  gave 
up  medical  practice  for  teaching  and  research ;  and  later, 
Stephens,  Delafield,  McBurney,  Jacobi,  and  Bull.  Mc- 
Lane  as  professor,  president,  and,  after  the  merger, 
dean,  was  a  natural  leader,  and  that,  during  the  last 
ten  years  of  his  life,  he  was  out  of  sympathy  with  the 
school  he  did  so  much  to  build  up,  is  a  source  of  great 
regret  to  his  old  colleagues. 

Dwight  was  the  Law  School  for  thirty  years.  His 
successor.  Keener,  was  almost  an  equally  commanding 
figure,  but  the  methods  of  the  two  men  were  diametrically 
opposed.  Men  sat  at  Dwight 's  feet,  waiting  quietly 
for  the  law  to  come  to  them,  and  it  came.  With  Keener, 
on  the  other  hand,  the  classroom  was  a  battlefield.  The 
student  were  flouted  and  buffeted  until,  fighting  mad, 
at  white  heat  they  learned  the  law. 

Professor  Ware  was  from  his  appointment  until  his 
retirement  a  decade  ago  one  of  the  most  delightful  mem- 
bers of  our  academic  family.  It  was  he  who  wittily  but 
none  the  less  truly  prophesied  that  the  move  from  Forty- 


168  TEACHERS  AND  EXECUTIVES 

ninth  Street  would  transform  Columbia  from  a  private 
to  a  public  institution. 

Two  other  men,  still  living  but  no  longer  in  service, 
must  be  mentioned:  Woodward,  now  president  of  the 
Carnegie  Institution,  was  notable  primarily  for  his  in- 
fluence on  his  colleagues,  and  particularly  upon  the 
younger  men,  to  whom  he  always  gave  the  best  he  had. 
On  his  periodic  visits  to  the  Faculty  Club  nowadays  the 
whole  company  rises  to  grasp  his  hand,  and  wherever  he 
sits  now,  as  formerly,  the  sparks  are  sure  to  fly.  Wood- 
berry,  who,  as  the  mood  was  on  him,  would  lecture  better 
or  worse  than  any  man  I  have  ever  sat  under,  devoted 
himself,  on  the  other  hand,  almost  wholly  to  his  students, 
and  upon  many  of  them  his  influence  was  extraordinary. 
The  evidences  of  its  lasting  quality  are  to  be  found  in 
the  recent  formation,  in  his  honor,  among  the  students 
of  ten  years  and  more  ago,  of  a  Woodberry  Society. 

The  greatest  factor  in  preserving  the  unity  of  our 
traditions  has  been  the  long  and  overlapping  terms  of 
service  of  three  distinguished  professors,  each  a  son  of 
the  College,  each  a  man  of  picturesque  and  lovable 
personality,  and  each,  to  use  Dr.  Alderman's  phrase, 
endowed  with  the  serene  unfailing  youth  of  men  who 
think  clearly,  will  resolutely,  and  work  joyfully  toward 
good  ends.  In  1820,  Charles  Anthon  joined  the  faculty, 
to  serve  for  forty-seven  years.  With  his  silk  hat  and  his 
cane,  his  sharp  tongue  and  his  kind  heart,  Anthon  was 
the  dominating  figure  for  many  years.  Poe  happened 
to  meet  him,  and  wrote :  "  He  would  impress  one  at  first 
sight  with  the  idea  of  his  being  no  ordinary  man.  He 
has  qualities  indeed  which  would  have  insured  him  emi- 
nent success  in  almost  any  pursuit ;  and  there  are  times 
in  which  his  friends  are  half-disposed  to  regret  his  ex- 


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ANTHON,  DRISLER,  VAN  AMRINGE       169 

elusive  devotion  to  classical  literature."  Anthon  was 
the  first  man  to  make  generally  known  in  America  the 
results  of  German  classical  scholarship,  and  his  personal 
educational  ideas  must  have  been  excellent,  to  judge  by 
his  vigorous  testimony  before  the  trustees  in  1857.  Stu- 
dents, colleagues,  and  trustees  all  feared  him,  particu- 
larly on  his  gouty  days,  but  they  all  loved  him.  One 
of  the  official  records  of  student  disorder  that  I  came 
upon  refers  to  "  tumultuous  cheering  for  the  person 
they  call  Bull  Anthon." 

In  1843,  Anthon 's  pupil,  Henry  Drisler,  became  a 
tutor  and  was  in  active  service  until  1894.  Drisler,  to 
quote  President  Butler,  "  loved  Columbia — as  he  served 
it — with  his  whole  nature.  To  him  its  name  was  not  an 
empty  word,  but  rather  the  symbol  of  whatsoever  is  true, 
whatsoever  is  lovely,  whatsoever  is  of  good  repute. 
Loyalty  to  Columbia,  to  its  traditions,  its  policies, 
its  hopes,  and  its  ideals  was  of  the  very  fiber  of  his 
being." 

The  third  of  the  trio,  known  before  his  beard  grew 
white  as  Barbarossa,  joined  the  staff  immediately  upon 
his  graduation  in  1860,  and  his  retirement  from  active 
service,  fifty  years  later,  was  marked  by  expressions  of 
enthusiastic  loyalty  and  affection  that  it  falls  to  the  lot 
of  few  men  to  receive.  To  anyone  who  has  known  any- 
thing at  all  about  Columbia  College  during  the  last  half 
century,  it  is  needless  to  describe  the  personal  qualities 
of  Professor  Van  Amringe,  and  in  any  event  it  would 
be  practically  impossible.  He  and  his  companion.  Chand- 
ler, have  been  so  completely  appropriated  by  the  alumni 
as  patron  saints  that  it  may  be  said  without  prejudice  to 
their  academic  service  that  their  most  striking  useful- 
ness has  been  in  cementing  the  ties  between  the  alumni 
and  their  Alma  Mater. 


170  TEACHERS  AND  EXECUTIVES 

Four  of  the  twelve  presidents  were  Columbia  alumni : 
Bishop  Moore,  1801-1811;  his  nephew,  Nathaniel  F, 
Moore,  1842-1849,  and  the  two  most  recent  incumbents. 
Three  were  Yale  men:  Samuel  Johnson,  1754-1762;  his 
son,  William  Samuel  Johnson,  1787-1811,  and  Frederick 
A.  P.  Barnard,  1864-1889.  Myles  Cooper,  1763-1775, 
was  from  Oxford ;  William  Harris,  1811-1829,  from  Har- 
vard ;  Charles  Wharton  (whose  connection  in  1811  with 
the  College  was  of  the  slightest)  studied  at  a  Jesuit 
College.  William  A.  Duer,  1830-1847,  and  Charles  King, 
1849-1864,  were  not  college  graduates.  Six  only  of 
the  presidents  were  clergymen,  which,  compared  with  the 
number  of  presidents  of  other  colleges  who  were  clergy- 
men, is  relatively  a  small  proportion. 

Samuel  Johnson,  the  intimate  friend  of  Bishop  Berke- 
ley and  Benjamin  Franklin,  was  the  foremost  educator 
of  his  time  in  America,  and  a  philosopher  of  distinction, 
as  his  manuscripts  now  in  the  Columbia  library  show 
even  more  clearly  than  his  printed  works.  President 
Oilman  has  said  that  Johnson's  grave  at  Stratford, 
Conn.,  is  one  of  the  shrines  of  American  education. 

Myles  Cooper,  who  was  called  from  Oxford  in  1763 
with  a  view  to  his  succeeding  Johnson,  was  a  brilliant 
classical  scholar  and  an  inspiring  teacher.  But  New 
York  was  no  place  in  those  days  for  the  belligerent  Roy- 
alist that  he  proved  himself  to  be.  The  story  has  often 
been  told  of  his  escape  from  the  College  (in  his  night- 
shirt, if  the  tradition  be  true)  while  his  youthful  pupil 
and  antagonist,  Alexander  Hamilton,  loyally  held  the 
mob  in  check  before  the  College  gate.  Cooper's  poem, 
not,  it  must  be  confessed,  an  immortal  masterpiece, 
describing  the  occurrence  is  extant ;  a  single  stanza  will 
suflSce  to  show  its  quality. 


THE  PRESIDENTS  171 

**  Not  yet  content,  but  hoping  still 
Their  impious  purpose  to  fulfill, 
They  force  each  yielding  door; 
And  while  their  curses  load  my  head 
With  piercing  steel  they  probe  the  bed 
And  thirst  for  human  gore.'* 

William  Samuel  Johnson,  with  whom,  by  the  way,  his 
even  more  famous  namesake,  the  lexicographer,  was 
proud  to  trace  a  relationship,  was  a  figure  of  national 
importance  and  probably  the  first  English-speaking  lay- 
man to  be  made  a  college  president.  It  was  he  who, 
with  the  aid  of  Morris  and  Hamilton,  revised  the  style 
of  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States  and  arranged 
its  articles;  and  it  was  he  who  first  proposed  the  or- 
ganization of  the  United  States  Senate  as  a  distinct 
body,  in  which  the  State  sovereignties  could  be  equally 
represented  and  guarded.  While  president  he  served 
as  the  first  senator  from  Connecticut. 

Benjamin  Moore  was  primarily  rector  of  Trinity 
Church  and,  later,  bishop  of  the  diocese,  and  only  sec- 
ondarily president  of  Columbia  College;  and  his  fame 
rests  rather  upon  his  theological  than  his  academic  repu- 
tation. The  thorough  overhaulings  which  the  College 
program  and  organization  received  in  1810  were  due 
to  the  trustees  rather  than  to  the  president. 

On  Moore's  resignation,  in  1811,  the  experiment  was 
made  of  putting  the  College  in  direct  charge  of  one  of 
these  same  trustees,  who  as  a  Presbyterian  could  not  be 
president  without  alienating  the  Trinity  Church  grant 
of  land.  John  M.  Mason  was  made  a  sort  of  Mayor  of 
the  Palace,  with  the  title,  created  ad  hoc,  of  Provost. 
Mason  was  a  young  man  of  established  ability  and  en- 
ergy.   He  was  instrumental  in  securing  from  the  State 


172  TEACHERS  AND  EXECUTIVES 

the  Botanical  Garden,  which  is  to-day  the  most  valuable 
item  in  the  endowment,  but  he  was  a  little  too  vigorous 
as  an  administrator,  and  the  College  breathed  a  sigh 
of  relief  when  he  resigned  in  1816  and  President  Harris, 
whom  he  had  previously  overshadowed,  took  the  reins. 
Harris  apparently  made  an  excellent  president.  An- 
thon,  in  1857,  looked  back  upon  his  administration  as 
the  heroic  age  of  the  College. 

During  the  days  of  Judge  Duer  and  Professor  Na- 
thaniel F.  Moore,  who  succeeded  him,  the  College  was 
at  its  hardest  straits.  The  New  York  University 
(founded  during  Duer's  presidency  under  a  former 
trustee  of  Columbia)  eclipsed  the  older  institution,  stu- 
dents decreased,  and  the  college  debt  mounted.  Duer 
and  Moore  served  faithfully,  but  the  times  were  out  of 
joint. 

The  next  president,  whose  lines  were  east  in  pleasanter 
places,  was  Charles  King,  banker,  merchant,  journalist, 
and  man  of  the  world.  His  father,  Rufus  King,  had  been 
one  of  the  great  Columbia  trustees.  During  Rufus 
King's  service  as  Minister  to  England,  his  son  had  been 
educated  at  Harrow,  where  he  was  a  contemporary  of 
Byron,  and  elsewhere  abroad.  He  had  returned  to  fight 
in  the  War  of  1812.  King  was  a  fine  figure,  and,  though 
no  longer  a  young  man  when  he  became  president,  he 
was  full  of  vigor.  Indeed,  after  his  retirement  as  presi- 
dent, he  rode  to  hounds  upon  his  trips  abroad  to  visit 
his  daughter,  Mme.  Waddington.  An  athlete  himself, 
he  was  the  first  to  interest  himself  in  student  sports. 
It  has  been  said  of  King  that  he  had  strong  likes  and 
dislikes,  the  former  of  which  he  plainly  showed,  the 
latter  of  which  he  concealed  as  well  as  he  could. 

Of  the  later  presidents,  I  have  endeavored  to  give 
some  picture  in  the  earlier  chapters  of  this  book. 


VI 

STUDENTS  AND  STUDENT  LIFE 

The  twofold  Relation.  Religion  and  Morals.  Fraternities. 
Academic  Groupings.  Problems  of  Assimilation.  Undergraduate 
Enterprises.  Records  of  Earlier  Days.  Athletic  Sports.  Music, 
Drama,  Debating.  Publications.  Enrollment  Figures.  Student 
Diversity.    Self-Grovernment.    Alumni  Affairs. 

Mr,  Gellett  Burgess  might  well  have  included  in 
his  collection  of  bromidic  utterances :  *  *  Oh,  yes,  Colum- 
bia has  splendid  buildings  and  great  professors,  but  then, 
you  know,  it  has  no  student  life."  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
if  anything,  it  has  too  much  student  life.  It  has  even 
plenty  of  the  conventionalized  college  life  to  which  the 
Bromide  refers.  Some  of  these  student  works  will  be 
noted  in  the  chapter  on  an  academic  year,  but  these 
show  but  a  few  among  dozens  of  different  kinds  of  stu- 
dent inter-relations,  which,  like  a  tangled  skein,  cross 
one  another  at  so  many  points  that  a  clear  description 
is  very  difficult  if  not  impossible. 

At  Columbia  it  must  be  granted  that  college  life  is 
likely  to  be  an  elective  rather  than  a  prescribed  course. 
For  various  reasons  many  of  the  students  take  little  or 
no  part  in  it,  but  to  say,  as  many  do,  that  the  average 
undergraduate  does  not  have  it  and  have  it  abundantly 
is  simply  to  state  what  is  not  the  fact. 

The  relation  of  any  student  to  the  student  body  has 
two  sides,  that  with  the  students  as  a  whole  and  that 
with  the  groups  which,  in  academic  work,  are  doing  the 
same  things  that  he  is  doing.  While  naturally  the  closest 
connection  will  be  found  in  the  latter  case,  there  are 

173 


174  STUDENTS  AND  STUDENT  LIFE 

many  factors  at  Columbia  to  tie  the  diverse  body  together 
as  a  whole.  Each  year  more  than  a  hundred  students 
enter  the  different  graduate  and  professional  schools  of 
the  University  after  graduation  from  Columbia  College, 
and  the  number  of  Barnard  graduates  is  also  consid- 
erable. Another  strong  element  cutting  across  school 
and  college  life  is  common  residence  in  the  dormitories. 
About  one  thousand  students  now  live  in  university 
halls,  and  over  five  hundred  others  in  fraternity  houses 
or  boarding  places  for  students  near  the  University. 
This  has  all  come  about  within  the  last  decade.  In  1901 
the  number  who  lived  in  the  immediate  neighborhood 
was  less  than  four  hundred. 

Another  factor  which  binds  together  the  students  of 
all  parts  of  the  University  is  that  of  the  religious  life 
and  the  interests  allied  thereto.  On  the  devotional  side 
the  center  is,  of  course,  the  beautiful  St.  Paul 's  Chapel, 
where  voluntary  services  are  held  daily.  The  practical 
side  of  religious  life  is  centered  in  Earl  Hall,  a  building 
given  by  the  late  W.  E.  Dodge  in  memory  of  his  son, 
which  has  some  forty  thousand  visits  each  year  from 
students.  Earl  Hall  is  administered  by  the  Young  Men's 
Christian  Association  of  New  York ;  it  is  closely  identified 
with  settlement  work  in  various  parts  of  the  city,  and 
the  students,  regardless  of  their  religious  beliefs,  do 
much  work  of  this  kind. 

Beside  the  Christian  Association,  which  has  branches 
or  allies  at  Teachers  College,  Barnard  College,  the 
Medical  School,  and  at  the  Summer  Camp,  there  is  a 
flourishing  club  of  the  Catholic  students  of  the  Uni- 
versity, a  Churchman's  Association,  a  Menorah  Society 
for  the  Jewish  students,  and  even  a  club  of  Christian 
Scientists.    The  Socialists'  Club  might  be  mentioned  in 


RELIGION  AND  MORALS  175 

this  connection,  for  to  most  of  its  members  Socialism  ap- 
pears to  be  a  kind  of  religion. 

The  general  attitude  of  the  students  toward  religion 
is  far  more  sympathetic  than  is  generally  supposed  by 
the  superficial  observer.  The  amount  of  orthodoxy  may 
be  disappointing  to  the  orthodox,  but  among  the  more 
serious  students  there  is  to  be  found  almost  uniformly 
clear  idealism,  remarkable  appreciation  of  the  highest 
standards  of  service,  and  an  acceptance  of  them,  as 
well  as  a  real  desire  to  know  the  truth  about  religion 
and  to  gain  from  it  inspiration  and  support. 

This  may  be  as  good  a  place  as  any  to  speak  of  gen- 
eral moral  conditions.  In  this  matter  city  institutions 
have  an  undeservedly  bad  name.  President  Butler  has 
pointed  out  that  the  "  notion  that  a  great  city  abounds 
in  necessary  temptations  of  which  small  industrial  towns, 
semi-rural,  and  rural  communities  are  free,  is  an  illusory 
one.  A  young  man  of  intelligence  and  character  can 
keep  himself  free  from  contamination  in  one  place  as 
well  as  in  another,  and  there  is  no  ground  whatever  for 
the  apparently  widespread  belief  that  to  send  a  young 
man  to  a  college  in  a  great  city  is  to  subject  him  to  a 
kind,  an  amount,  and  a  variety  of  temptation  that  would 
be  spared  him  if  he  were  elsewhere.  A  healthy  human 
environment,  clean  companionship,  and  wide-appealing 
interests  and  opportunities  of  a  worthy  sort  are  what 
will  do  most  for  a  young  man,  and  these  are  precisely 
what  college  life  in  a  great  city  can  furnish." 

The  basal  temptation  for  the  young  man  is  the  per- 
fectly natural  and  normal  temptation  to  find  diversion. 
The  wealth  of  opportunity  for  profitable  diversion  open 
to  the  student  is  not  the  least  of  the  claims  of  the  city 
institution.  A  frank  student  who  once  discussed  the 
matter  with  me  put  it  in  this  way:  **  In  the  country  a 


176  STUDENTS  AND  STUDENT  LIFE 

fellow  has  only  an  occasional  chance  to  be  bad  and  he 
has  to  take  the  opportunity  when  the  time  comes.  In 
the  city  he  can  go  to  the  devil  any  time  that  he  wants 
and  he  puts  it  off  from  day  to  day  just  as  he  puts  off 
the  things  he  ought  to  do,  like  his  prescribed  reading  and 
his  mathematics  review." 

Another  bridge  extending  from  school  to  school  is 
the  system  of  Greek  letter  fraternities.  The  fraternities 
at  Columbia  date  back  to  the  Park  Place  days,  Alpha 
Delta  Phi  having  received  a  charter  in  1836.  About  five 
years  afterward  came  Psi  Upsilon  and  Delta  Phi.  The 
question  of  priority  between  these  two  became  acute 
when,  for  some  years,  the  chapter  of  Alpha  Delta  Phi 
lapsed  and  the  controversy  strongly  colored  undergradu- 
ate politics  in  the  sixties  and  seventies.  Delta  Psi  was 
founded  at  Columbia  in  1847.  Twelve  more  chapters 
were  organized  at  Forty-ninth  Street,  and  there  are  now 
thirty  fraternities,  each  maintaining  its  own  chapter 
house,  and  one  small  but  influential  senior  society.  This 
is  too  many,  particularly  in  view  of  the  high  cost  of 
maintenance  in  New  York,  and  the  limited  resources  of 
most  of  the  students.  There  should  be  some  kind  of 
co-operation  in  purchasing;  and  a  private  fraternity 
apartment  building,  with  one  floor  to  each  society,  would 
prove  a  good  investment  in  more  ways  than  one. 

The  influence  of  the  men 's  fraternities  has  become  dis- 
tinctly better  throughout  the  country  within  the  last 
decade  and  many  of  the  dreadful  things  that  are  now 
said  about  them  are  said  by  persons  who  have  little  or 
no  knowledge  of  present  conditions.  I  have  found  most 
of  the  chapters  at  Columbia  to  be  distinct  aids  in  main- 
taining scholarship  standards  and  more  likely  to  keep 
their  younger  members  upon  the  path  of  virtue  than  to 


FRATERNITIES  177 

turn  them  from  it.  They  have  no  aristocracy  of  wealth, 
many  of  the  most  active  members  being  self-supporting, 
and  they  give  a  welcome  home  to  the  fraternity  men 
coming  by  the  score  each  year  from  other  colleges. 
On  the  whole,  I  feel  that  the  fraternities  at  Columbia 
are  a  source  of  good.  They  have,  of  course,  touches  of 
intolerance  and  snobbishness,  the  older  societies  look- 
ing down  upon  the  younger,  as  all  look  down  upon  the 
"  barbarians." 

There  are  also  the  customary  honorary  and  profes- 
sional societies.  For  women  there  are  six  chapters  at 
Teachers  College  and  at  present  eight  at  Barnard,  al- 
though these  latter  are  by  faculty  order  to  go  out  of 
existence  when  the  present  initiates  have  graduated. 

Turning  from  the  general  factors  in  student  social  life 
to  particular  schools,  the  spirit  in  the  Schools  of  Mines, 
Engineering,  and  Chemistry  has  from  their  foundation 
been  strong.  Apparently  it  is  a  fine  type  of  boy  that 
is  attracted  by  the  engineering  profession,  and  the  men 
are  bound  together  by  the  long  hours  in  the  laboratory 
and  shop,  and  particularly  by  the  common  life  at  the 
summer  camp  and  on  geological  and  mining  trips.  The 
Law  School  presents  a  compact  body  of  well-trained  men 
of  serious  purpose  and,  relatively  speaking,  mature 
years,  the  average  age  at  entrance  being  nearly  twenty- 
three.  Some  few  of  the  students,  particularly  those  who 
have  come  from  the  College,  do  take  part  in  undergradu- 
ate affairs,  a  large  proportion,  even  for  Columbia,  spend 
part  of  their  time  in  earning  money,  but  the  general  im- 
pression is  that  law  students,  except  when  they  are 
asleep,  are  either  studying  their  subjects  or  talking 
about  them  to  one  another.  The  law  seems  to  be  a  won- 
derfully satisfying  type   of  intellectual  pabulum.     A 


178  STUDENTS  AND  STUDENT  LIFE 

selected  body  of  the  students  edit  what  is  one  of  the 
most  creditable  publications  of  the  entire  University, 
the  Columbia  Law  Review,  to  which  legal  luminaries 
from  all  over  the  world  are  glad  to  contribute. 

Except  for  some  few  who  live  in  the  dormitories,  the 
students  of  medicine  and  pharmacy  have  but  little 
chance  to  participate  in  the  general  life  of  the  Uni- 
versity. This  is  unfortunate  for  all  concerned,  but  it  is 
hoped  that  at  some  time  in  the  future  the  whole 
University  may  be  brought  together.  The  students  of 
medicine  regard  themselves  as  the  hardest  worked  mem- 
bers of  the  University,  and  they  are  probably  right. 
"Whether  they  would  not  become  even  better  doctors  if 
the  pace  were  not  quite  so  swift,  is  a  question  which  from 
time  to  time  arises  in  the  mind  of  the  outsider.  The 
faculty  has  indeed  voted  to  reduce  the  hour-schedule  con- 
siderably for  the  future. 

If  I  were  to  be  pinned  down  to  state  which  part  of 
the  University  has  the  most  highly  organized  and  the 
most  enthusiastic  student  life,  I  should  be  com- 
pelled to  give  the  palm  to  Barnard  College.  While  the 
columns  of  the  men's  daily  are  filled  with  appeals  and 
even  threats  about  "  getting  the  men  out  " — and  this, 
I  think,  is  true  in  general  of  the  publications  of  men*s 
colleges — the  problem  at  Barnard  seems  to  be  to  keep 
the  girls  from  plunging  into  too  many  activities  and 
devoting  too  much  time  to  them.  They  are  the  best 
actors  in  the  University,  they  devise  the  cleverest 
'  *  stunts, ' '  and  their  Greek  games  furnish  one  of  the  most 
picturesque  performances  of  the  year.    . 

Teachers  College,  like  Barnard,  has  a  vigorous  exist- 
ence of  its  own  and  an  intense  corporate  spirit.  In 
the  words  of  Dean  Russell:  "  Loyalty  to  one's  Alma 
Mater  may  mean  much  or  little,  but  in  our  case  it  is 


PROBLEMS  OF  ASSIMILATION  179 

not  based  upon  adventitious  circumstances.  We  have  no 
athletic  sports,  no  crew,  no  football,  baseball,  no  glee 
club,  no  debates,  and  no  intercollegiate  leagues.  In  fact, 
we  are  without  any  of  the  accessories  commonly  believed 
to  be  of  importance  to  college  life,  yet  we  manage  to 
have  a  good  time  and  find  something  to  do  every  day." 
The  graduate  students  at  Teachers  College  include  some 
of  the  finest  material  in  the  entire  student  body.  When 
men  have  thrown  up  a  good  position  to  take  a  year  or 
more  of  academic  work  at  very  short  commons,  in  order 
to  break  through  the  lock-step  of  their  profession,  they 
are  likely  to  prove  worth-while  students  and  companions. 
The  summer  has  a  life  of  its  own.  The  director  has 
taken  particular  pains  to  organize  student  gatherings 
of  all  sorts,  and  the  arrangements  made  seem  entirely  to 
the  mind  of  the  students.  I  know  of  no  other  body  of 
men  and  women  the  size  of  an  army  brigade  that  get 
to  know  one  another  so  promptly. 

One  of  the  commonest  references  that  one  hears  with 
regard  to  Columbia  is  that  its  position  at  the  gateway 
of  European  immigration  makes  it  socially  uninviting  to 
students  who  come  from  homes  of  refinement.  The  form 
which  the  inquiry  takes  in  these  days  of  slowly-dying 
race  prejudice  is,  "  Isn't  Columbia  overrun  with  Euro- 
pean Jews,  who  are  most  unpleasant  persons  socially?  " 
The  question  is  so  often  asked  and  so  often  answered  in 
the  affirmative  by  those  who  have  made  no  effort  to 
ascertain  the  facts  that  it  will  do  no  harm  to  speak 
frankly  about  it.  In  the  first  place,  Columbia  is  not 
**  overrun  "  with  Jews  any  more  than  it  is  with  Roman 
Catholics  or  Episcopalians.  The  University  is  open  to 
any  student  of  good  moral  character  who  can  satisfy  the 
entrance   requirements,   without  limitation  of  race  or 


180         STUDENTS  AND  STUDENT  LIFE 

creed,  and  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  this  always  will  be  so. 
No  questions  are  asked  and  no  records  kept  of  the  race 
or  religion  of  incoming  students,  but  it  is  evident  that 
the  proportion  of  Jewish  students  is  decreasing  rather 
than  increasing.  Each  year  more  Jewish  parents  are 
realizing  the  advantages  to  be  obtained  from  sending 
their  boys  away  from  home.  The  family  and  intimate 
social  life  of  the  Jews  is  so  intense  that  there  is  a  real 
danger  of  social  inbreeding;  family  and  racial  traits 
which  ought  to  be  minimized  are  accentuated,  and  the 
Jewish  prejudice  against  the  Gentile,  which  is  as  real 
a  thing  as  the  prejudice  in  the  other  direction,  is  main- 
tained. 

By  far  the  majority  of  the  Jewish  students  who  do 
come  to  Columbia  are  desirable  students  in  every  way. 
"What  most  people  regard  as  a  racial  problem  is  really 
a  social  problem.  The  Jews  who  have  had  the  advan- 
tages of  decent  social  surroundings  for  a  generation 
or  two  are  entirely  satisfactory  companions.  Their  in- 
tellectual ability,  and  particularly  their  intellectual  curi- 
osity, are  above  the  average,  and  the  teachers  are  unani- 
mous in  saying  that  their  presence  in  the  classroom  is 
distinctly  desirable.  There  are,  indeed,  Jewish  students 
of  another  type  who  have  not  had  the  social  advantages 
of  their  more  fortunate  fellows.  Often  they  come  from 
an  environment  which  in  any  stock  less  fired  with  ambi- 
tion would  have  put  the  idea  of  higher  education  wholly 
out  of  the  question.  Some  of  these  are  not  particularly 
pleasant  companions,  but  the  total  number  is  not  large, 
and  every  reputable  institution  aspiring  to  public  serv- 
ice must  stand  ready  to  give  to  those  of  probity  and  good 
moral  character  the  benefits  which  they  are  making  great 
sacrifices  to  obtain. 

With  the  rapidly  growing  improvement  in  the  eeo- 


UNDERGRADUATE  ENTERPRISES        181 

nomie  condition  of  the  Jews  throughout  the  country, 
the  problem  of  their  assimilation  in  undergraduate  life 
is  one  which  will  have  to  be  faced  by  every  college  of 
the  first  class — and  they  will  go  to  no  other.  It  is  hard, 
in  fact  it  is  impossible,  to  do  away  in  a  day  with  the 
prejudices  of  twenty  centuries.  It  is  particularly  diffi- 
cult in  the  intolerant  period  of  youth,  but  harder  prob- 
lems have  been  faced  and  solved  by  the  American 
community. 

The  student's  real  education  depends  in  large  meas- 
ure on  his  student  life  as  a  whole.  Anything  the  insti- 
tution can  do  to  insure  the  wholesomeness  and  sanity 
of  this  life  and  to  vitalize  it  and  enrich  it,  is  educational 
work  of  the  highest  significance.  There  is  a  Filipino 
riddle  in  which  a  pair  of  shoes  is  called  two  boats  with 
but  a  single  passenger.  I  often  think  that  this  gives 
a  good  picture  of  the  American  undergraduate.  In  spite 
of  statements  to  the  contrary,  in  general  he  insists  on 
wearing  the  shoe  of  intellectual  training  and  wearing 
it  pretty  hard,  but  he  is  equally  persistent  in  wearing 
the  shoe  of  undergraduate  activities.  The  forming  of 
organizations  of  aU  kinds,  and  particularly  the  holding 
of  offices  therein,  seems  to  gratify  a  fundamental  human 
craving.  The  current  student's  year-book  includes  a 
hundred  clubs  and  societies,  and  there  are  perhaps  as 
many  others  in  more  or  less  permanent  existence. 

This  is  a  greater  number  than  can  be  adequately  sup- 
ported by  the  student  body.  For  one  thing,  the  city 
itself  offers  many  of  the  means  of  legitimate  diversion 
which  in  the  country  must  be  provided  by  the  students 
themselves,  many  of  our  organizations  being  purely  imi- 
tative rather  than  supplying  an  actual  student  need. 
Then,  too,  the  students  have  relatively  little  time  to  put 


182  STUDENTS  AND  STUDENT  LIFE 

into  student  organizations.  The  academic  standards  are 
high  and  the  hours,  particularly  in  the  scientific  courses, 
are  long.  Almost  a  third  of  the  students  have  to  earn 
money  as  well  as  study. 

In  the  eighties  and  nineties  the  Columbia  students 
were  willing  to  live  their  own  life — and  it  was  a  vivid  and 
profitable  one — largely  regardless  of  student  conventions 
elsewhere.  In  fact,  for  some  years,  thanks  to  brilliant 
and  venomous  student  journalism,  Columbia  was  at 
swords*  points  with  nearly  every  other  Eastern  college. 
During  the  brief  reign  of  football,  which  began  in  1899, 
there  was  a  strong  tendency  to  mold  the  college  com- 
munity into  the  standard  pattern.  To-day  again  it 
would  seem  that  the  elements  of  college  life  that  best 
flourish  here  are  the  unconventional  rather  than  the  con- 
ventional, although  the  controversy  over  a  recent  article 
on  this  subject  by  Professor  John  Erskine,  himself  an 
alumnus,  made  it  clear  that  students  and  alumni  are 
far  from  unanimous  in  believing  that  this  is  true,  or  if 
true,  desirable. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  I  think  the  best  way  to  describe 
the  actual  situation  is  to  say  that  at  Columbia  a  student 
group  of  the  conventional  undergraduate  interests  and 
opportunities,  in  numbers  about  the  size  of  Hamilton 
or  Bowdoin,  is  imbedded  in  and  intertwined  with  the 
large  and  more  varied  and  individual  student  life  sur- 
rounding it.  In  his  article  Erskine  said,  among  other 
things,  that :  *  *  Spirit  of  the  conventional  sort  Columbia 
has  lacked;  in  the  atmosphere  of  the  most  sophisticated 
city  in  America,  a  parochial  satisfaction  in  dead  alumni 
and  a  few  live  mannerisms  has  not  prospered.  .  .  . 
It  is  the  presence  of  the  city  at  her  doors  that  is  creating 
the  new  Columbia  spirit."    He  pointed  his  moral  by  a 


RECORDS  OF  EARLIER  DAYS  183 

personal  reminiscence.  Meeting  a  student  who  some- 
times did  typewriting  for  him,  he  was  politely  asked 
as  to  the  fate  of  a  certain  story  which  the  latter  had 
copied  some  time  before,  and  which,  as  a  matter  of  fact, 
had  not  as  yet  found  a  publisher.  The  student  did  not 
seem  astonished  to  learn  this.  He  had  himself  thought 
it  too  psychological,  and  he  went  on  to  say  that  as  he 
copied  it  a  plot  of  his  own  had  come  to  him,  and  for  the 
resulting  story  he  had  that  morning  received  a  com- 
fortable check. 

For  the  best  students,  at  any  rate,  a  good  part  of 
the  life  outside  the  classroom  is  spent  in  informal  eon- 
tact  with  the  instructors.  The  system  of  prosectorships 
at  the  Medical  School,  the  common  interests  of  the 
Columbia  Law  Eeview,  the  work  of  the  student  assistants 
at  Barnard  College,  the  informal  work  of  the  various 
departmental  journal  clubs,  and  the  close  contact  of 
preceptor  and  student  in  the  work  of  the  honor  courses 
in  the  college,  all  tend  in  this  direction,  and  much  of 
the  paid  work  done  by  students  is  of  a  character  which 
adds  to  their  scholarly  equipment.  In  the  scientific 
departments  many  of  the  students  are  taken  into  the  field 
by  their  instructors.  Of  the  student  clubs,  some  of  the 
best — as,  for  example,  the  literary  coterie  known  as 
Boar's  Head,  the  Politics  Club,  the  Chemical  Society, 
and  the  Deutscher  Verein — show  the  beneficent  influence 
of  a  guiding  faculty  hand. 

To  understand  the  student  life  of  to-day,  one  must 
know  something  of  the  earlier  epochs  of  the  institution. 
To  be  sure,  Columbia  is  the  only  one  of  the  larger  insti- 
tutions that  has  been  transplanted  bodily  twice  within 
a  half  century,  and  these  transplantings  have  marked 
sharp  changes  in  the  manner  of  student  life.    The  influ- 


184         STUDENTS  AND  STUDENT  LIFE 

ence  of  the  older  days,  nevertheless,  is  felt  in  many  ways. 
For  example,  the  students  at  Park  Place  had  a  reputa- 
tion for  formal  and  courtly  manners,  and,  although  this 
cannot  be  said  to  have  persisted  in  toto,  Columbia  is  still 
about  the  only  college  where  professors  and  students 
touch  their  hats  when  they  meet. 

Much  of  what  we  know  about  the  student  life  in  the 
pre-Revolutionary  days  is  gathered  from  the  full  and 
illuminating  laws  passed  for  the  governance  of  the  stu- 
dents. From  those  of  1755  we  can  see  that  there  was 
danger  of  cock-fighting,  card-playing,  and  dice-throwing 
among  the  students,  from  the  establishment  of  a  fine  not 
to  exceed  five  shillings  for  these  offenses.  For  the  ap- 
parently less  serious  crimes  of  fighting,  maiming,  slan- 
dering or  grievously  abusing  any  person,  a  smaller  fine 
of  three  shillings  was  established.  Among  the  rules  of 
1763  we  find  that  the  junior  students  shall  pay  such 
respect  to  the  seniors,  and  all  of  them  to  the  president, 
professors,  fellows  and  tutors,  as  the  said  president, 
etc.,  shall  direct  and  under  such  penalties  as  they  shall 
think  proper  to  prescribe. 

In  1773,  Washington  entered  his  stepson  and  ward, 
John  Parke  Custis,  as  a  student.  The  best  contemporary 
description  that  we  have  of  the  life  at  the  College  is 
contained  in  the  boy's  letters. 

"  It  is  now  time  to  give  you  a  short  plan  of  my  apart- 
ments and  of  my  way  of  living.  I  have  a  large  parlour 
with  two  studys  or  closets,  each  large  enough  to  contain 
a  bed,  trunk  and  couple  of  chairs,  one  I  sleep  in  and 
the  other  Joe  [presumably  his  servant]  calls  his,  my 
chamber  and  parlour  are  papered,  with  a  cheap  tho* 
very  pretty  paper,  the  other  is  painted;  my  furniture 
consists  of  six  chairs,  2  tables,  with  a  few  paultry  Pic- 
tures.   I  have  an  excellent  bed,  and  in  short  everything 


RECORDS  OF  EARLIER  DAYS  185 

very  convenient  and  clever.  I  generally  get  up  about 
six  or  a  little  after,  dress  myself  and  go  to  Chappel,  by 
the  time  that  prayers  are  over,  Joe  has  me  a  little  break- 
fast, to  which  I  sit  down  very  contentedly,  &  after  eating 
heartyly,  I  thank  God  and  go  to  my  Studys,  with  which 
I  am  employed  till  twelve,  then  I  take  a  walk  and  return 
about  one,  dine  with  the  Professors  and  after  Dinner 
study  till  six  at  which  time  the  Bell  always  rings  for 
Prayers,  they  being  over  College  is  broak  up  and  then  we 
take  what  amusement  we  please." 

In  this  period  of  course  the  really  significant  thing 
was  the  way  the  young  College  caught  fire  from  the 
flames  of  the  Revolution,  and  the  most  vivid  picture  of 
its  college  life  has  already  been  mentioned — the  young 
Hamilton  holding  the  mob  at  the  College  gate  in  order 
that  his  president  might  have  an  opportunity  to  escape. 

There  was  apparently  some  kind  of  debating  society 
as  early  as  1766,  but  the  first  evidence  of  any  formal 
organization  is  found  in  1784,  when  the  students,  with 
some  others,  formed  a  society  for  the  purpose  of  improv- 
ing themselves  in  polite  literature.  One  must  not  forget 
that  these  students  were  boys,  and  young  boys  at  that. 
Only  a  century  ago  one  of  the  students  graduated  at 
the  age  of  thirteen.  "When  about  1800  the  College  build- 
ing was  given  up  wholly  to  classroom  work  and  no  dor- 
mitories were  maintained,  the  students  had  very  little 
opportunity  for  a  common  undergraduate  life.  Such 
headquarters  as  they  had  seem  to  have  been  the  cake- 
shop  at  the  comer  of  Church  and  Murray  streets.  Col- 
lege enthusiasm,  however,  was  not  wanting  in  spite  of 
unfavorable  conditions.  The  question  of  a  semi-centen- 
nial celebration  was  first  broached  at  a  meeting  of  the 
students  held  in  1836.  The  two  literary  societies  were 
active,  and  I  have  heard,  from  one  who  is  now  a  distin- 
guished trustee,  of  at  least  one  series  of  informal  gather- 


186  STUDENTS  AND  STUDENT  LIFE 

ings  in  a  room  on  Canal  Street  where  the  refreshments 
consisted  of  coffee  and  sausages,  but  where  the  talk  was 
upon  more  profitable  matters  than  the  prattle  about 
intercollegiate  athletics  and  professional  baseball  which 
to-day  wastes  so  many  of  the  precious  hours  of  youth. 
A  boy  who  neglects  his  study  to  practice  athletics  has 
at  least  a  vigorous  body  to  show  for  it,  but  one  who  neg- 
lects his  study  to  talk  about  them  has  little  but  an  empty 
mind.  Indeed,  at  that  period  there  were  no  athletics  to 
talk  about,  unless  one  includes  billiards,  which  was 
played  by  those  who  could  afford  it,  and  snowball  fights 
in  the  winter. 

Although  professors  like  "  Bull  "  Anthon  knew  well 
enough  how  to  preserve  classroom  discipline,  the  disor- 
der in  some  of  the  other  classes  was  scandalous,  and  fac- 
ulty and  trustees  devoted  apparently  most  of  their  time 
to  unintelligent  methods  of  coping  with  it.  They  had, 
indeed,  little  else  to  do,  for  the  curriculum  was  appar- 
ently fixed  for  all  time  and  there  was  no  money  to  spend 
on  enlargements.  Unfortunately  they  believed  too  fully 
(as  Francis  Wayland  told  them  in  1857)  in  the  efficacy 
of  laws,  and  student  crime  continued  unchecked. 

President  Moore  used  to  read  at  chapel  any  notices 
that  might  be  handed  to  him — there  was  no  Spectator  in 
those  days — and  some  young  imp  had  a  job  printer  set 
up  a  notice  in  the  conventional  form  of  the  president's 
own  death  and  the  announcement  for  the  funeral  serv- 
ices, and  then  had  this,  in  the  guise  of  a  newspaper 
clipping,  slipped  in  among  the  official  notices.  The 
absent-minded  president  had  read  well  through  his  own 
obituary  notice  before  its  purport  dawned  upon  him. 

General  Charles  King,  who  left  the  College  as  a  fresh- 
man at  the  outbreak  of  the  Civil  War,  has  written  of 
the  college  life  in  the  early  sixties  at  Forty-ninth  Street, 


RECORDS  OF  EARLIER  DAYS  187 

and  particularly  of  the  martial  zeal  which  filled  all 
hearts  from  the  president  (his  grandfather)  down.  The 
war,  indeed,  came  close  to  the  College  in  more  ways  than 
one,  for  the  buildings  narrowly  escaped  destruction  dur- 
ing the  draft  riots. 

Technically  speaking,  the  institution  ceased  to  be  local, 
not  to  say  parochial,  when  the  Law  School  was  estab- 
lished and  the  Medical  School  rejoined,  but,  as  a  matter 
of  fact,  these  moves  had  practically  no  effect  on  the 
college  life.  When  the  School  of  Mines  was  started,  the 
two  sets  of  students  would  at  first  have  nothing  to  do 
with  one  another,  but  the  influence  of  the  vigorous  men 
whom  Egleston  and  Chandler  were  attracting  from  the 
country  at  large,  before  long  made  itself  felt. 

In  the  late  sixties  student  activities  were  still  prac- 
tically centered  in  the  life  of  the  two  literary  societies 
and  in  the  fraternities.  There  was  still  student  disorder, 
some  of  it  of  an  amusing  kind.  For  example,  in  the 
prescribed  chapel  service  the  students  by  prearrange- 
ment  would  sing  lustily  the  first  line  or  two  of  a  hymn 
and  then  stop  suddenly,  leaving  the  quavering  voice  of 
the  old  janitor,  apparently  the  only  member  of  the  gov- 
ernment to  share  the  privileges  of  chapel,  to  carry  on  the 
lines  alone.  There  were  vigorous  rushes  in  and  about 
the  old  building  which  John  Kendrick  Bangs  later  chris- 
tened the  Maison  de  Punk.  The  resourceful  Dr.  Chand- 
ler is  fond  of  telling  how,  on  one  wintry  day,  when  he 
was  temporarily  in  charge,  a  glorious  rush  in  the  *'  Pass 
of  Thermopylae  * '  was  brought  to  nothing  through  his  in- 
considerate playing  of  the  hose  upon  the  combatants. 

Perhaps  the  pleasantest  feature  of  college  life  in  those 
days  was  the  Semi-annual  Exhibition,  first  held  under 
the  direction  of  the  authorities,  and,  after  the  Civil  War, 
arranged  by  the  students  themselves  and  held  in  the  old 


188         STUDENTS  AND  STUDENT  LIFE 

Academy  of  Music  in  Fourteenth  Street.  The  exercises 
were  probably  not  of  a  profound  character,  but  all  the 
pretty  girls  in  town  were  there,  and  everyone  had  a 
good  time.  The  proceedings  were  sometimes  marred  by 
the  presence  of  persons  under  the  influence  of  liquor,  but 
the  students  assured  the  faculty  that  this  was  a  failing 
exclusively  limited  to  outsiders. 

A  more  vigorous  student  life  began  to  develop  about 
the  middle  of  the  seventies.  The  winning  crew  at  Henley 
was  probably  both  an  evidence  and  a  cause.  In  this 
period  student  journalism  and  student  athletics  flour- 
ished and  class  politics,  usually  abetted  by  the  fine  Italian 
hand  of  the  fraternities,  reached  almost  the  point  of 
bloodshed.  The  test  of  strength  between  the  warring  fac- 
tions was  the  award  of  the  Goodwood  Cup  to  the  most 
popular  junior,  and  this  award  had  finally  to  be  aban- 
doned after  1878  because  of  the  bitterness  it  engen- 
dered. 

The  present  students*  lounging  room  in  Hamilton  Hall, 
which  was  furnished  by  the  class  of  '81  and  named  the 
Gemot,  is  a  reminder  of  the  original  Gemot,  organized  in 
that  class,  with  headquarters  in  a  beer  saloon  opposite 
the  College  grounds.  In  the  nineties  the  beer  saloon  was 
deserted  for  the  more  aristocratic  Buckingham  Hotel. 
Its  barroom,  in  my  time,  attracted  far  too  much  of  the 
attention  of  some  of  the  students.  One  of  the  waiters 
there,  finding  his  occupation  in  large  part  gone,  followed 
the  College  when  it  moved  uptown.  He  bought  some 
materials  from  an  old  mansion  that  was  being  torn  down 
and  avoided  rent  by  setting  them  up  as  a  College  Tavern 
upon  what  would  have  been  One  Hundred  and  Twenty- 
first  Street  had  the  street  been  cut  through.  In  the 
early  days  at  Morningside,  when  everything  was  new  and 
bare,  Mike's  tavern  furnished  a  cozy  retreat,  but  there 


ATHLETIC  SPORTS  189 

was  too  much  drinking  here  also,  far  more  than  there 
is  at  present  among  the  students,  and  it  was  a  good 
thing  when  the  city  saw  fit  to  recognize  the  trespass. 
The  land  has  since  been  sanctified  by  the  erection  upon 
it  of  the  Union  Theological  Seminary. 

The  attitude  of  Columbia  toward  athletics  has  been 
sympathetic,  but  never,  I  think,  idolatrous.  King  was 
the  first  president  who  interested  himself  in  student 
sports.  He  tried  without  success  to  get  the  trustees  to 
establish  a  student  billiard  room,  but  he  did  succeed 
in  getting  a  teacher  of  boxing  and  fencing.  In  1867  an 
appropriation  of  two  hundred  dollars  was  made  for 
student  athletics.  The  sum  indeed  was  small,  but  it  was 
the  first  made  by  a  college  from  its  corporate  funds 
for  this  purpose.  Since  then  other  appropriations  have 
been  made,  and  individual  trustees,  notably  W.  G. 
Lathrop  and  F.  S.  Bangs,  have  labored  hard  in  the 
interest  of  student  sports,  and  so  have  many  of  the  pro- 
fessors ;  on  the  other  hand,  the  tail  has  never  been  per- 
mitted to  wag  the  dog. 

As  one  looks  over  the  record  of  athletics  at  Columbia, 
the  first  thought  is  of  the  individual  champions  and 
heroes.  All  New  York,  from  the  mayor  down,  assembled 
to  welcome  Goodwin  and  his  comrades  upon  their  victo- 
rious return  from  Henley  in  1878.  Sayre  of  '81  helped 
mightily  to  bring  the  championship  in  track  athletics 
to  Columbia,  and  his  eye  is  still  so  keen  that  he  served 
as  captain  of  the  American  pistol  team  at  the  Olympic 
games.  The  president  of  the  College  Alumni  Associa- 
tion walks  with  a  cane  to-day  as  the  result  of  an  heroic 
physical  sacrifice  in  the  'varsity  boat  twenty-five  years 
ago.  The  Mapes  brothers — Charles,  Herbert,  and  Vic- 
tor— ^brought  many  championships  to  their  Alma  Mater, 


190  STUDENTS  AND  STUDENT  LIFE 

and  the  beautiful  iron  gate  on  Broadway  is  a  memorial 
to  Herbert  Mapes,  who  was  drowned  while  trying  to 
save  a  woman's  life.  Colonel  Eoosevelt  has  paid  a  fine 
tribute  to  one  of  his  Rough  Riders,  shot  in  Cuba,  Hamil- 
ton Fish,  of  the  Class  of  '95,  a  University  oarsman.  A 
recent  president  of  the  Amateur  Athletic  Union,  Gus- 
tavus  T.  Kirby,  learned  his  devotion  to  athletics  at 
Columbia.  A  little  later  come  Weekes  and  Morley, 
idols  of  the  football  team,  and  the  hero  of  to-day  is  Bab- 
cock,  who  won  the  world's  championship  in  the  pole 
vault  at  Stockholm. 

Rowing  has  always  been  the  premier  sport,  and  the 
happiest  memories  of  many  an  alumnus  are  of  the  aft- 
ernoons on  the  Harlem  or  the  Hudson,  followed  by  days 
at  New  London  or  Poughkeepsie.  The  first  class  crew 
was  apparently  that  of  1859,  and  the  first  regatta  in 
1876.  That  year  the  race  at  the  Centennial  Celebration 
at  Poughkeepsie  was  lost  by  the  fainting  of  one  of  the 
men,  a  tragedy  repeated,  as  all  the  world  knows,  at 
Poughkeepsie  thirty-five  years  later.  In  the  seventies 
Columbia  was  easily  the  foremost  rowing  college  in 
America.  The  crew  of  '86  was  also  a  famous  one,  but 
shortly  afterward  rowing  was  given  up  as  an  intercol- 
legiate sport,  to  be  triumphantly  revived  by  an  inter- 
collegiate victory  at  Poughkeepsie  in  1895.  Since  then, 
although  there  has  been  no  victory  there  except  that  of 
the  freshmen  in  1911,  there  have  been  sterling  crews 
and  many  a  heartbreaking  finish. 

Track  athletics  also  have  a  fine  background.  For  the 
ten  years  beginning  in  1877,  when  the  first  intercollegiate 
championship  was  won,  the  blue  and  white  were  more 
likely  to  be  at  the  front  than  any  other  colors.  In  more 
recent  years,  although  there  have  been  well-rounded 
teams,  and  much  interest  in  the  class  and  college  con- 


ATHLETIC  SPORTS  191 

tests,  there  has  been  a  lack  of  the  **  stars  "  necessary 
for  victory  at  the  intercollegiates. 

Baseball  has  been  played  since  the  sixties,  and  of  late 
years,  like  hockey  and  "  soccer,"  it  is  steadily  growing 
in  interest.  A  sport  which  has  had  a  conspicuous  and 
persistent  success  at  Columbia  is  basket-ball.  The  game 
was  invented  as  recently  as  1892  as  an  adjunct  to  regular 
gymnasium  work,  and  the  first  Columbia  teams  were 
those  of  the  girls  of  Barnard  and  Teachers  College.  A 
masculine  Varsity  was  first  formed  twelve  years  ago, 
since  when  six  intercollegiate  championships  have  come 
to  Columbia. 

In  the  public  mind,  however,  Columbia's  most  con- 
spicuous sport  is  conspicuous  by  its  absence.  The  dis- 
cussion of  intercollegiate  football  is  sure  to  be  a  thank- 
less task  to  one  who  is  both  an  alumnus  and  an  officer, 
for  most  of  the  alumni,  even  those  who  appreciate  the 
courage  of  the  authorities  for  their  stand  in  the  face 
of  what  was  almost  a  national  idolatry,  believe  that  the 
abolition  of  the  game  in  1905  was  a  serious  mistake  in 
the  interest  of  the  institution.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
faculty,  almost  to  a  man,  hold  the  opposite  opinion. 
The  game  is  the  oldest  Columbia  sport,  having  been 
played  as  far  back  as  1834.  After  a  lapse  of  some  years 
it  was  taken  up  in  1899  under  dubious  auspices,  and,  in 
spite  of  indignant  denials  by  credulous  officers,  it  is 
unfortunately  true  that  certain  members  of  the  early 
teams  had  no  right  to  play  as  amateurs  and  collegians. 
This,  however,  was  not  the  reason  for  its  abolition.  The 
members  of  later  teams  were  all  right  as  regards  eligi- 
bility, even  though  most  of  them  for  their  own  sakes 
should  not  have  been  playing  football. 

The  abolition  of  the  game  did  not  represent  the  in- 
dividual caprice  of  President  Butler,  but  was  the  result 


192         STUDENTS  AND  STUDENT  LIFE 

of  profound  feeling  on  the  part  of  almost  everyone  who 
was  responsible  for  the  educational  work  of  the  Uni- 
versity that  football  had  become  an  academic  nuisance. 
Elsewhere  than  in  a  complex  metropolitan  university, 
where  the  efficiency  of  the  year's  work  depends  largely 
upon  getting  under  way  promptly,  the  undoubted  mer- 
its of  the  game  may  well  outweigh  its  disadvantages. 
At  Columbia,  however,  football  developed  not  into  a 
sport  for  college  boys,  but  into  a  serious  business  for 
mature  and  often  reluctant  professional  students  who 
could  ill  afford  the  time  for  it.  In  its  last  year  the  only 
Columbia  College  student  to  win  the  football  "  C  "  was 
E.  T.  Collins,  who  has  since  joined  the  ranks  of  distin- 
guished alumni  as  a  professional  baseball  player. 

Football,  nevertheless,  was  a  powerful  factor  in  awak- 
ening the  loyalty  and  enthusiasm  of  the  alumni,  and 
their  disappointment  is  a  reason  for  real  regret.  After 
a  year  or  so  of  bitter  feeling,  the  undergraduates  them- 
selves accepted  the  situation  with  more  philosophy  than 
their  elders.  Class  football  was  experimentally  re- 
established in  1907,  but  it  failed  to  get  a  foothold  and 
has  disappeared.  In  Professor  Erskine's  words:  "  Un- 
less they  are  made  to  play  by  artificial  stimulus  of  one 
kind  or  another,  undergraduates  will  not  play  this  game, 
for  it  is  no  longer  a  sport  and  no  longer  amateur.  The 
students  are  not  mollycoddles,  they  are  not  going  to  the 
deuce,  and  they  are  not  eager  to  furnish  a  gladiatorial 
combat  for  spirited  alumni  to  bet  on." 

Whether  it  is  the  spirit  of  individualism  in  which 
some  rejoice,  or  whether  it  is  easier  with  our 
somewhat  limited  undergraduate  body  to  get  together 
a  small  team,  I  do  not  know,  but  it  is  a  fact  that  the 
record  of  the  minor  sports,  so-called,  is  unusually  good 
at  Columbia.    Intercollegiate  championships  have  been 


MUSIC,  DRAMA,  DEBATING  193 

won,  and  often  won  more  than  once,  in  bicycle  riding, 
shooting — and,  by  the  way,  the  rifle  match  at  Stockholm 
was  won  by  a  Columbia  student — bowling,  wrestling, 
chess,  swimming  and  water  polo,  gymnastics,  lawn 
tennis  and  fencing. 

Columbia  has  certainly  not  yet  solved  the  problem  of 
a  general  participation  in  athletic  sports.  Too  many 
"  carry  on  their  morals  what  they  ought  to  carry  on 
their  muscles. ' '  Still  the  signs  for  the  future  are  hope- 
ful. Informal  fraternity  and  class  contests  of  various 
kinds  are  growing  in  number,  and  the  physical  educa- 
tion department  conducts  its  prescribed  courses  in  the 
open  air  whenever  possible.  That  the  problem  of  gen- 
eral undergraduate  participation  is  not  insoluble  we 
know,  for  Oxford  and  Cambridge  have  solved  it.  To  be 
sure,  they  enjoy  the  advantage  of  a  more  benign  climate 
and  of  unlimited  playing  fields,  but  American  ingenuity 
is  not  what  it  is  supposed  to  be,  if  the  difficulties  here  can- 
not be  overcome. 

Of  the  multifarious  other  activities  of  the  students, 
past  and  present,  the  limits  of  space  forbid  more  than 
a  very  brief  review.  The  class  of  1869  had  a  quartet, 
the  first  evidence  of  the  beginning  of  musical  organiza- 
tions. A  Glee  Club  was  formed  about  ten  years  later, 
and  since  then  the  record  has  been  probably  neither 
better  nor  worse  than  at  other  colleges.  The  dramatic 
record  is  more  picturesque.  Beginning  with  the  per- 
formance of  the  first  original  play,  "  Igala,"  in  1880, 
the  Columbia  plays,  by  Morrison  and  others,  had  great 
popularity  and  were  the  chief  support  of  student  ath- 
letics. Among  the  authors  either  of  the  words  or  the 
music  of  later  plays  have  been  Guy  Wetmore  Carryl, 
John  Erskine,  Henry  Sydnor  Harrison,  and  among  the 


194  STUDENTS  AND  STUDENT  LIFE 

performers,  W.  C.  deMille,  the  dramatist.  The  'Varsity 
Show  of  to-day  is  a  most  elaborate  affair,  admirably 
staged,  with  good  dancing,  startling  costumes,  and  many 
good  songs,  but  one  wonders  whether  it  is  the  right  type 
for  an  institution  of  learning.  Nevertheless,  the  boys 
who  go  into  the  shows  have  a  very  good  time  of  it, 
particularly  on  the  trips  to  Washington,  Pittsburgh,  and 
elsewhere,  made  under  the  auspices  of  the  alumni  clubs. 
More  representative,  though  less  elaborate,  are  the 
Elizabethan  and  Irish  plays  and  those  in  French,  Ger- 
man and  Spanish,  given  by  the  literary  societies,  the  plays 
at  Barnard  College,  and  particularly  the  work  of  the  re- 
cently organized  Columbia  University  Dramatic  Associa- 
tion, which  is  open  both  to  men  and  women,  and  has 
already  given  admirable  performances. 

There  was  apparently  a  short-lived  debating  society 
in  Hamilton's  day.  Of  the  organizations  now  at  Colum- 
bia, the  oldest  is  the  Philolexian  Society,  founded  in  1802. 
Four  years  later  came  the  Peithologian.  For  many 
years  these  two  represented  about  all  there  was  of  col- 
lege life.  Such  literary  work  as  was  done  was  done 
for  them  rather  than  for  the  college,  and  their  libraries, 
in  contrast  to  the  official  one,  were  available  for  use. 
Altogether  the  little  college  would  have  been  a  dreary 
place  for  the  student  had  it  not  been  for  them.  It  is 
pleasant  to  remember  that  the  Columbia  flag  of  blue  and 
white  combines  the  colors  of  the  two  societies. 

About  1842  a  small  Columbia  group  formed  a  society 
for  improvement  in  letters  which  grew  into  a  notable 
New  York  coterie  known  as  "  The  Column."  This  was 
later  merged  into  the  Century  Association,  where  the 
lamp  upon  the  silver  column  is  still  lighted  with  due 
ceremony  at  every  meeting. 


PUBLICATIONS  195 

In  1877,  the  Barnard  Literary  Association  was  founded 
as  a  protest  against  the  control  of  the  older  societies  by 
the  fraternities,  and  when  intercollegiate  debating  came 
into  vogue  it,  with  Philolexian,  took  charge  of  this  activ- 
ity. In  1897  Columbia  won  a  victory  over  the  Harvard 
Forum,  and  soon  afterward  defeated  the  University  of 
Chicago.  For  some  years  thereafter  it  was  one  of  the 
strongest  debating  colleges  of  the  day.  After  a  brief  de- 
cline in  interest,  debating  is  again  to  the  fore,  and  in  1913 
Columbia  won  both  contests  in  the  triangular  league  with 
Cornell  and  the  University  of  Pennsylvania. 

After  some  ephemeral  efforts  (the  earliest,  which  dates 
from  1813,  being  in  manuscript)  Acta  Columbiana  was 
founded  in  1873.  After  suffering  from  the  undignified 
and  slovenly  writing  in  current  college  journalism  I 
must  confess  to  some  relief  in  finding  the  student  writing 
of  forty  years  ago  to  be  just  as  bad,  the  only  difference 
being  that  it  erred  on  the  side  of  fine  and  florid  writing 
rather  than  on  the  side  of  "  journalese."  This  criti- 
cism, however,  no  longer  holds  true  of  the  days,  1880-83, 
when  Acta  was  being  edited  by  Harry  Thurston  Peck, 
Nicholas  Murray  Butler,  and  John  Kendrick  Bangs. 
Writing  of  this  period,  W.  A.  Bradley,  himself  one  of 
the  chief  figures  in  a  later  revival  in  student  letters,  says 
that  "  not  only  was  it  one  of  the  best  papers  ever  pub- 
lished at  Columbia,  but  there  has  seldom  been  in  any 
American  college,  we  are  confident,  a  publication  that 
has  had  at  once  more  intrinsic  interest  for  the  casual 
reader  of  back  files  to-day,  and  at  the  same  time  a  flavor 
so  thoroughly  characteristic  of  the  little  college  world 
which  it  represented.  It  was  at  once  admired  and  hated 
by  contemporary  college  periodicals,  and  was  at  one 
time  removed  from  the  exchange  list  of  Yale  papers. 
Outside  of  college  circles  it  attained  considerable  notice, 


196         STUDENTS  AND  STUDENT  LIFE 

and  its  really  excellent  verse,  which  was  the  work 
for  the  most  part  of  Peck,  Bangs,  Frank  Dempster 
Sherman,  and  William  Ordway  Partridge,  was  quoted 
widely. ' ' 

Shortly  after  this  period  Acta  was  crowded  out  by  a 
more  vigorous  rival,  Spectator,  founded  in  1878.  In 
the  nineties  came  the  Literary  Monthly,  and  the  less 
serious  Morningside,  which  for  a  brief  period  rivaled  the 
Acta  of  the  previous  decade  in  brilliance.  Bradley's 
**  Imaginary  Lectures  "  is  one  of  the  classics  of  under- 
graduate writing.  A  decade  ago  the  Jester  was  born, 
an  illustrated  monthly  which  closely  resembles  the  little 
girl  with  the  frontal  curl.  Shortly  afterward  the  Lit 
and  Morningside  combined  forces,  and  the  present 
Monthly  is  by  far  the  most  '*  advanced  "  publication 
of  the  entire  University.  It  is  admirably  written,  but 
much  of  the  material  must  make  the  forbears  of  the 
youthful  authors  stir  uneasily  in  their  graves.  All  these 
activities  left  Spectator  free  to  develop  into  a  newspaper, 
and  to-day  it  holds  a  relatively  high  place  among  student 
dailies. 

A  college  year-book,  in  the  modem  sense,  was  first 
published  in  1864.  This  shows  that  at  that  date  there 
were,  besides  four  fraternities,  two  local  secret  societies, 
a  chess  club,  and  a  billiard  club,  two  literary  societies, 
a  Christian  association,  a  chemical  society,  and  a  base- 
ball association,  rather  a  sharp  contrast  to  the  innumer- 
able organizations  of  to-day.  Like  everything  else 
that  Columbia  undertook  during  the  brilliant  period 
between  78  and  '84,  the  Columbiads  were  of  high  order. 
The  present  Columbian  is  a  handsome  volume  of  the 
conventional  type,  and  a  necessity  to  all  interested  in 
college  life.    Owing  to  the  presence  of  an  architectural 


STUDENT  DIVERSITY  197 

school,  the  illustrations  are  somewhat  better  than  the 
average. 

For  those  upon  whose  "  unreceptive  minds  statistics 
fall  like  chilling  pellets  of  fact ' '  the  detailed  statements 
as  to  student  growth  and  registration  are  tucked  away 
in  an  Appendix  to  this  volume,  where  they  may  be  neg- 
lected at  will.  To  summarize  these  briefly,  in  1913-14, 
almost  exactly  10,000  students  enrolled  in  Columbia 
University.  (Sixty  years  ago  there  were  but  172.) 
This  figure  includes  the  forty-five  hundred  students  of 
the  Summer  Session,  but  does  not  include  about  four 
thousand  in  Extension  Teaching  and  other  irregular 
courses.  About  one-quarter  of  the  students  are  under- 
graduates, an  increase  of  seventy-five  per  cent,  in  ten 
years;  another  quarter  are  non-professional  graduate 
students,  an  increase  of  one  hundred  and  sixty-seven  per 
cent,  in  the  same  period ;  half  are  professional  students, 
an  increase  of  sixty-two  per  cent.  More  than  half  the 
students  in  the  University  Corporation  have  already 
received  the  first  degree.  Of  these  five  hundred  hold 
more  than  one  degree,  and  one  student,  still  here,  has 
five!  At  Commencement,  1913,  1,656  degrees  and 
diplomas  were  granted.  The  proportion  of  men  to 
women  is  thirty-seven  to  twenty-three. 

The  degrees  already  held  by  last  year's  students  were 
conferred  by  351  different  institutions.  Those  that  have 
sent  the  largest  total  of  graduates  to  Columbia  for  pro- 
fessional and  higher  training  are,  in  order,  Yale,  the 
New  York  City  College,  Princeton,  Harvard,  Amherst, 
Williams,  Rutgers,  New  York  University,  and  Cornell. 
Outside  the  United  States,  Toronto  is  in  the  lead. 

The  tendency  to  enter  the  different  departments  of 
Columbia  with  advanced  standing  is  noteworthy.     It 


198  STUDENTS  AND  STUDENT  LIFE 

has  always  been  a  feature  of  the  student  body  in  engi- 
neering and  Teachers  College,  and  is  rapidly  coming 
to  be  so  in  law  and  medicine.  In  fact,  to-day  the 
medical  class  is  likely  to  graduate  more  men  than  it 
enters,  in  spite  of  the  inevitable  mortality  in  so  severe  a 
course.  Columbia  College  also  is  coming  to  draw  a  very 
considerable  portion  of  its  membership  from  other  col- 
leges. In  1891  there  were  ten  students  admitted  to  ad- 
vanced standing.  Last  year  there  were  more  than  one 
hundred,  coming  from  over  fifty  different  institutions. 

The  wide  geographical  distribution  of  students  is 
shown  in  the  Appendix.  Even  in  Columbia  College 
only  one-third  of  the  students  were  born  on  Manhattan 
Island,  and  four-fifths  of  the  States  of  the  Union  and 
many  foreign  countries  are  represented  in  the  registra- 
tion. Hardly  more  than  three-quarters  of  the  students 
come  to  the  University  from  the  North  Atlantic  division 
of  States,  and  this  proportion  is  steadily  decreasing. 
The  most  rapidly-growing  element  is  the  South  Atlantic 
division.  As  many  students  arrive  from  North  Carolina 
alone  as  from  all  four  of  the  more  distant  New  England 
States. 

The  foreign  students  form  an  interesting  part  of  the 
community,  and  many  of  them  take  an  active  part  in 
the  student  life.  We  have,  for  example,  had  a  Zulu 
noble,  who  won  the  gold  medal  for  public  speaking,  A 
Chinaman,  now  in  high  station  at  Pekin,  was  editor-in- 
chief  of  the  college  daily.  There  are  to-day  sixty  or 
more  Chinese  students,  and  Turkish  students  are  here  in 
sufficient  numbers  to  maintain  an  Ottoman  Society. 

The  social  and  economic  distribution  of  the  students 
is  as  striking  as  the  geographical,  A  large  proportion 
have  to  be  self-supporting  while  in  residence;  indeed, 
it  is  the  opportunities  for  work  which  New  York  City 


SELF-GOVERNMENT  199 

offers  that  attract  many  of  them  to  Columbia.  A  re- 
cent valedictorian  was  a  Custom  House  inspector. 
Others  were  policemen,  revenue  cutter  officers,  "  lectur- 
ers "  on  sightseeing  motors,  artists'  models,  organizers 
of  after-school  classes  of  the  little  children  of  the  rich, 
civil  service  and  election  workers. 

Rough  diamonds  are  an  important  factor  in  the  attri- 
tion that  should  go  on  among  students,  and  fortunately 
Columbia  gets  its  share  of  them.  There  is  no  more 
important  factor  in  a  boy's  collegiate  education  than 
the  opportunity  of  rubbing  up  against  boys  and  men  of 
utterly  different  points  of  view.  To  serve  its  purpose, 
a  college  must  be  a  real  melting  pot.  The  elements 
that  make  for  intellectual  friction  and  stimulus  exist 
in  any  good  college,  but  they  exist  in  proportion  to  the 
breadth  and  depth  of  the  human  material  there.  The 
records  of  the  Pulitzer  scholarship  committee,  which 
studies  carefully  the  home  conditions  of  candidates, 
give  an  astounding  picture  of  the  economic  position 
of  some  of  the  families  that  send  boys — and  desir- 
able boys — ^to  college.  At  the  other  end  of  the  line 
are  students  whose  wealth  offers  an  almost  equally  seri- 
ous handicap  to  satisfactory  academic  work.  Few  stu- 
dents drift  to  Columbia,  and  if  they  do  they  are  soon 
cut  loose  to  drift  elsewhere. 

President  Barnard  constantly  but  vainly  tried  to  im- 
press upon  the  students  that  self-government  is  a  duty 
which  they  owe  themselves  as  an  element  of  character 
formation.  Upon  assuming  the  presidency,  Mr.  Low 
endeavored  to  foster  the  idea  by  creating  an  academic 
undergraduate  senate,  but  the  time  was  not  yet  ripe. 
Indeed,  civil  liberty  is  a  slow  growth  in  academic  quar- 
ters as  elsewhere.    Now,  however,  student  self-govern- 


200         STUDENTS  AND  STUDENT  LIFE 

ment  is  an  essential  feature  of  the  undergraduate  life. 
All  the  detailed  problems  of  student  affairs  are  in  the 
hands  of  the  Student  Board  of  Representatives,  elected 
by  the  students  themselves  and  responsible  only  to  them. 
Election  is  recognized  as  a  real  honor,  and  members 
take  their  duties  seriously  and  perform  them  intelli- 
gently. The  board  of  1912  took  the  admirable  initiative 
of  publishing  its  records,  and  these  published  records 
will  doubtless  supply  the  element  of  continuity  of  policy, 
the  lack  of  which  had  hitherto  been  the  most  serious 
handicap  to  the  usefulness  of  the  board. 

There  is  very  little  student  disorder.  Trouble  in  the 
classroom  is  practically  unknown.  During  the  opening 
days  there  are  three  contests  between  the  sophomores  and 
the  freshmen,  closely  supervised  by  the  student  board. 
There  is,  I  fear,  still  a  little  individual  hazing  of  fresh- 
men, but  the  student  sentiment  on  the  whole  is  healthy 
in  this  matter  as  it  is  in  others,  and  conditions  are 
certainly  improving  year  by  year.  Practically  the  only 
causes  of  trouble  now  are  two  vestigeal  survivals  from 
earlier  days,  the  Sophomore  Smoker  in  the  fall  and  the 
Sophomore  Triumph  in  the  spring,  neither  of  which  is 
likely  to  be  creditable  to  the  student  body.  Readers 
of  the  newspapers  may  remember  the  lurid  accounts 
of  the  proceedings  of  certain  triumphing  sophomores 
in  the  spring  of  1912.  The  University  turned  over  the 
matter  for  settlement  to  the  Student  Board  of  Repre- 
sentatives, which,  after  careful  examination,  suited  the 
punishment  to  the  crime  by  forbidding  the  offending 
class  to  hold  the  traditional  ball  in  its  junior  year. 

There  is  an  admirable  system  of  self-government 
at  Barnard  College  and  another  at  Teachers  College. 
The  dormitories  for  men  and  women,  also,  are  practically 
self-governing. 


ALUMNI  AFFAIRS  201 

The  responsibility  for  athletic  conditions  is  definitely 
placed  upon  a  small  group  of  alumni  and  undergradu- 
ates, with  a  paid  director.  A  non-athletic  organization, 
similar  in  character,  has  just  been  organized.  In  these 
matters  the  university  administration  concerns  itself 
only  in  a  general  financial  oversight  through  a  controller 
of  student  organizations,  to  whom  budgets  must  be  sub- 
mitted in  advance,  and  with  questions  of  academic 
eligibility,  the  approval  of  schedules,  etc.,  which  are  in 
the  hands  of  a  small  faculty  committee. 

Class  organization,  which  began  half  a  century  ago, 
is  maintained  under  difficulties  to-day.  Students  enter 
both  in  September  and  February,  many  of  them  as 
sophomores  and  juniors,  and  the  seniors  are  largely  split 
up  among  the  professional  schools.  The  students  do 
their  best,  however,  and  the  freshmen,  at  any  rate,  are 
bound  together  by  a  realization  of  their  lowly  estate. 

As  early  as  1816  a  society  of  graduates  existed  *'  for 
the  purpose  of  reading  papers  on  literary  and  scientific 
subjects."  The  interest  of  the  alumni  was  heightened 
by  the  semi-centennial  celebration  in  the  year  1837,  and 
the  present  association  was  organized  in  1856,  among  the 
most  active  in  the  movement  being  Abram  S.  Hewitt, 
'42.  Since  1860  this  Association  of  the  Alumni  of 
Columbia  College  has  held  regular  meetings.  It  is  more 
than  a  coincidence  that  1860  was  the  year  in  which  Pro- 
fessor Van  Amringe  graduated  from  the  College,  as 
since  that  time  the  association  has  been  an  object  of  his 
particular  solicitude.  It  now  numbers  1,412  and  is  in 
healthy  condition.  Three  or  four  meetings  are  held  each 
year,  some  of  them,  when  the  members  feel  that  the 
University  is  not  giving  due  attention  to  the  College, 
being  of  a  vigorous  and  exciting  nature. 


202         STUDENTS  AND  STUDENT  LIFE 

Every  other  part  of  the  University  has  its  alumni 
association.  The  Law  School  Association  was  revived 
in  1903  after  a  long  sleep.  That  of  the  Physicians  and 
Surgeons  has  an  unbroken  existence  of  more  than  fifty 
years,  and  that  of  the  College  of  Pharmacy  of  more 
than  forty.  The  Alumnae  Association  of  Barnard, 
founded  by  the  fifteen  graduates  of  1893  and  1894, 
proved  its  energy  by  undertaking  the  management  of 
a  temporary  dormitory  for  Barnard  girls,  which  paved 
the  way  for  Brooks  Hall.  The  Barnard  alumnae  are 
entrusted  with  the  selection  of  one  member  of  the  Board 
of  Trustees. 

The  alumni  of  all  the  professional  schools  are  con- 
stantly on  the  watch  lest  the  departments  in  which  they 
are  interested  should  fall  into  a  rut.  In  1885,  for  ex- 
ample, a  committee  of  the  alumni  of  the  School  of 
Mines  made  a  careful  study  of  the  operations  of  the 
school  and  offered  valuable  suggestions.  The  loy- 
alty of  these  schools  is  reflected  in  its  strong 
alumni  organization,  which  has  1,200  members,  and 
does  a  great  deal  in  helping  the  young  graduates 
toward  professional  advancement.  The  Law  School  As- 
sociation also  finds  places  for  its  graduates  and  inter- 
ests itself  in  the  building  up  of  the  Law  Library.  The 
Medical  Association  maintains  research  fellowships  and 
helps  to  keep  up  scientific  equipment.  This  association 
and  that  of  Teachers  College  make  sure  of  at  least  one 
large  gathering  of  their  members  a  year  by  calling  meet- 
ings, one  at  the  time  and  place  of  the  American  Medical 
Association,  and  the  other  of  the  Department  of  Super- 
intendence of  the  National  Education  Association. 

For  many  years  the  alumni  of  certain  cities  have 
had  some  form  of  organization,  notably  in  Chicago,  Pitts- 
burgh, Denver,  and  Washington,  and  during  Professor 


ALUMNI  AFFAIRS  203 

Tombo's  vigorous  secretaryship  of  the  Alumni  Council 
the  number  of  out-of-town  associations  was  greatly  in- 
creased. The  total  number  of  separate  organizations, 
school  and  regional,  which  have  something  more  than  a 
nominal  existence,  is  now  about  twenty-five,  and  includes 
clubs  in  Japan,  China,  and  Mexico. 

Organized  alumni  interest  in  the  institution  as  a  whole 
did  not  come  until  the  organization  in  1895  of  a  Uni- 
versity Council,  representative  originally  of  the  College, 
Mines,  and  Medical  Associations  only,  and  later  of  other 
associations.  Since  1908  the  Alumni  Council  has  main- 
tained an  office  in  the  University,  which  is  busy  from 
morning  until  night.  It  conducts  the  Alumni  News,  has 
charge  of  the  machinery  for  the  election  of  alumni  trus- 
tees, and  of  the  alumni  doings  on  Alumni  Day  and  Com- 
mencement. 

Although  comparatively  late  in  the  organization  of 
its  alumni  and,  so  to  speak,  in  the  capitalization  of  the 
alumni  loyalty  already  existing,  the  question  of  direct 
alumni  representation  in  our  governing  body  was  pro- 
posed more  than  a  decade  before  arrangements  were 
made  at  Harvard  for  the  representation  of  alumni 
through  the  Board  of  Overseers,  only  to  be  rejected  by 
the  trustees.  It  was  not  until  1908  that  the  trustees 
announced  that,  as  vacancies  occurred,  they  would  elect 
six  members  of  the  board  upon  nomination  by  the  or- 
ganized alumni  of  the  University.  It  is  not  necessary 
to  give  a  detailed  statement  of  the  necessarily  compli- 
cated means  of  selecting  trustees,  beyond  saying  that 
the  nominations  are  made  by  a  sort  of  electoral  college 
consisting  of  delegates  of  all  alunmi  associations  with 
twenty-five  or  more  members,  each  association  being 
given  as  many  votes  as  it  has  graduates  in  good  standing 
on  its  rolls.    The  man  so  elected  serves  for  a  term  of 


204         STUDENTS  AND  STUDENT  LIFE 

six  years  and  is  not  immediately  eligible  for  re-election. 
Tfie  associations  and  the  electors  enter  into  their  work 
with  real  seriousness  of  spirit,  and  the  weight  of  their 
views  is  shown  in  that  more  than  once  the  trustees 
have  themselves  chosen  alumni  who,  although  they  had 
failed  of  formal  nomination,  were  evidently  held  in  high 
esteem  by  the  electors. 

In  all  alumni  enterprises,  here  and  elsewhere,  certain 
alumni  are  perhaps  more  interested  in  getting  prestige 
for  themselves  than  in  serving  their  Alma  Mater,  but  as 
a  whole,  and  particularly  when  one  considers  how  recent 
is  any  sense  of  solidarity,  Columbia  has  reason  to  be 
proud  and  appreciative  of  the  loyalty  and  interest  of 
her  alumni. 

Perhaps  too  much  of  the  energy  of  the  Alumni  Coun- 
cil has  been  devoted  to  the  details  of  its  machinery.  Still 
the  council  has  already  solved  admirably  certain  of  the 
complicated  problems  inherent  in  the  alumni  situation  at 
Columbia,  and  the  others  will  doubtless  be  met  more  and 
more  effectually  as  time  goes  on.  At  present  the  coun- 
cil includes  only  the  schools  of  the  corporation,  leaving 
the  associations  of  Barnard  College,  Teachers  College, 
and  Pharmacy  without  direct  representation  in  general 
alumni  matters,  but  a  plan  for  organizing  a  general 
Alumni  Federation,  which  all  men  graduates  of  the  Uni- 
versity may  join,  has  just  been  adopted.  Its  executive 
committee  is  to  take  over  the  present  functions  of  the 
council.  No  provision  is,  however,  in  contemplation 
for  woman  suffrage,  a  fact  to  which  attention  is  sure 
to  be  called  in  vigorous  terms  before  very  long, 

In  the  earlier  days  the  spirit  of  class  organization 
after  graduation  was  rather  haphazard,  although  1874 
has  dined  together  at  least  once  each  year  since  they 
were  freshmen.     Since  1880  practically  every  class  in 


ALUMNI  AFFAIRS  205 

arts  and  science,  and  not  a  few  in  law  and  medicine, 
has  maintained  an  organization,  the  graduates  in  the 
two  former  sometimes  uniting  in  a  joint  association. 
The  special  celebrations  after  ten  and  twenty  years  do 
much  to  reawaken  the  class  spirit  of  the  members. 

In  1901  a  Columbia  University  Club  was  organized. 
It  now  owns  a  comfortable  old-fashioned  club  building 
on  Gramercy  Park,  and  has  1,307  members.  The  build- 
ing is  much  used,  especially  by  the  younger  alumni, 
and  in  the  winter  there  are  admirable  monthly  club 
dinners.  One  of  the  most  comfortable  places  to  dine 
in  New  York  during  the  summer  is  its  open-air  dining- 
room.  The  club  maintains  a  friendly  rivalry  with  simi- 
lar organizations  in  squash  and  other  games,  and  at  the 
June  regatta  its  corporate  being  moves  into  a  well- 
stocked  special  car  and  is  transported  to  Poughkeepsie. 

The  extraordinary  organization  known  as  the  Early 
Eighties,  mentioned  elsewhere,  was  organized  at  Com- 
mencement in  1907,  and  has  pointed  the  way  for  similar 
groupings  of  the  Older  Graduates  and  the  Upper 
Eighties,  and  more  recently  the  Forty-Niners  (the  last 
five  classes  at  the  Forty-ninth  Street  site).  A  large 
number  of  alumni  whose  offices  are  in  the  lower  part  of 
the  city  make  a  practice  of  lunching  together  at  the 
Lawyers  Club  every  Monday. 


VII 
AN  ACADEMIC  YEAR 

The  Summer  Session.  Preparations  for  Autumn.  Opening  Days. 
The  Year's  Routine.  The  Budget.  Winter  and  Spring.  Com- 
mencement.   Other  Pageants.    The  Home  Stretch. 

Columbia  University  is  largely  run  by  calendar. 
The  academic  calendar,  which  is  prepared  each  year  for 
the  formal  approval  of  the  University  Council,  settles  the 
various  important  milestones  of  the  year,  and  each  of 
the  larger  executive  offices  has  its  own  calendar  of  the 
things  for  which  it  is  responsible.  This  fact  has  sug- 
gested the  idea  of  setting  down,  more  or  less  in  chron- 
ological order,  some  of  the  significant  happenings  of  an 
academic  year  in  order  to  show  by  a  series  of  concrete 
examples  something  of  what  the  Scotchman  in  the  story 
called  the  worrking  of  the  worrks. 

Our  year  begins  on  July  1,  which  is  a  far  busier  day 
than  one  who  has  no  idea  of  a  modern  university  can 
realize.  All  the  administrative  officers  are  luxuriating  in 
a  sense  of  new-found  wealth.  They  have  been  living  on 
short  commons  for  the  last  month  or  so,  but  the  new 
appropriations  are  now  available.  The  bursar  is  bal- 
ancing the  books  for  the  year  just  closed  and  everyone 
else,  particularly  the  director  and  the  registrar,  are 
preparing  for  the  imminent  onrush  of  Summer  Session 
students.  For  this  occasion  the  registrar  commandeers 
the  gymnasium  and  builds  a  complicated  series  of  run- 
ways, whereby  the  new  student,  once  correctly  launched, 
is  led  inevitably  to  correct  registration.    By  this  method 

206 


SUMMER  SESSION  207 

more  than  fourteen  hundred  students  are  enrolled  in 
a  single  day  without  confusion  or  delay. 

Both  teachers  and  students  of  the  forthcoming  ses- 
sion are  looking  up  abiding-places,  renewing  old  ac- 
quaintanceships, and  making  new  ones.  A  summer  ses- 
sion faculty  constitutes  an  intercollegiate  society  of  great 
value  and  stimulus,  and  associations  of  this  sort,  as  Pro- 
fessor Baldwin  has  pointed  out,  are  worth  far  more  than 
the  crowded  meetings  of  learned  societies  for  three  days 
in  the  winter;  for  it  has  wider  scope  and  lasts  for  six 
weeks.  The  exchange  of  ideas  at  the  Columbia  Summer 
Session,  where  the  faculty  numbers  some  two  hundred 
and  fifty,  may  fairly  be  assumed  to  be  worth  something 
to  the  education  of  the  country. 

Before  one  realizes  it  the  session  itself  is  upon  us, 
and  some  five  thousand  people  plunge  at  once  as  if  by 
some  miracle  into  vigorous  and  complicated  activity. 
To  say  nothing  of  the  formal  work  in  the  435  courses 
of  instruction,  each  of  which  is  conducted  daily,  there 
are  religious  meetings,  music  and  drama,  excursions 
seemingly  to  everything  of  interest  within  range  of  the 
city,  organization  and  meetings  of  all  sorts  of  student 
societies,  State  and  other.  I  have  before  me  the  Bulletin 
of  a  single  week.  It  includes  thirty  different  meetings 
and  other  enterprises,  including  excursions  to  the  New 
York  Stock  Exchange,  to  a  newspaper  office,  to  the 
latest  transatlantic  leviathan,  to  West  Point  and  the 
Navy  Yard,  addresses  by  President  Butler  and  others, 
lectures  and  dramatic  readings,  special  chapel  services, 
and  open-air  concerts. 

Besides  the  students  at  work  in  New  York,  there  are 
three  hundred  at  the  summer  camp  in  engineering 
and  others  in  mines,  factories,  law  offices,  and  dispen- 
saries.   The  old  idea  of  a  college  vacation  of  four  months 


208  AN  ACADEMIC  YEAR 

has  passed  into  history.  In  August  come  open-air  plays, 
for  which  the  University  Green  is  admirably  adapted. 
Then  the  choral  singers  present  the  oratorio  they  have 
been  rehearsing.  The  baseball  teams  from  the  various 
sections  of  the  country  decide  the  championship.  At 
the  latest  possible  moment  comes  consistent  devotion  to 
the  library  to  prepare  for  the  impending  examinations, 
and  these  once  over  the  place  is  deserted  as  suddenly  and 
as  miraculously  as  it  was  filled. 

During  all  this  time  the  admissions  officers  have  been 
busy  with  the  interests  of  the  fall  crop  of  undergradu- 
ates. The  deans  have  been  preparing  their  annual  re- 
ports and  the  executive  officers  setting  their  houses  in 
order  for  the  new  year 's  work. 

From  the  middle  of  August  to  the  first  of  September 
is  the  quietest  time  of  the  year.  It  is  used  by  the  super- 
intendent to  give  his  buildings  a  thorough  scrubbing, 
and  by  not  a  few  scholars  of  our  own  and  other  facul- 
ties to  do  a  quiet  piece  of  uninterrupted  research.  After 
Labor  Day  the  world  begins  to  come  back.  Plans  have 
to  be  made  for  the  fall  entrance  examinations  and  for 
what  are  known  as  the  "  lame  duck  "  examinations  for 
old  students.  Men  whose  return  depends  upon  some  re- 
munerative work  are  besieging  the  employment  office, 
others  are  settling  in  the  dormitories  or  in  nearby  board- 
ing houses,  patrols  from  the  different  fraternities  are 
scouting  about  to  look  over  promising  new  material. 
City  boys  back  from  their  vacations  are  using  the  base- 
ball field  and  tennis  courts,  and  altogether  the  experi- 
enced eye  realizes  that  the  real  rush  will  soon  be  on. 
Day  by  day  more  professors  return  to  lead  telegamic 
existences  until  their  families  return. 

By  the  third  week  of  September  the  dormitories  are 


o 

H 

W 

Q 


PREPARATIONS  FOR  AUTUMN  209 

well  filled  with  men  and  women  from  all  over  the  world 
— and  the  day  when  only  three  students  in  the  entire 
institution  lived  north  of  Nineteenth  Street  in  New  York 
is  within  the  memory  of  one  of  the  trustees.  Practically 
all  of  the  teachers  are  at  their  desks  and  the  general 
offices  are  overwhelmed  with  newcomers  engaged  in 
self-orientation.  The  new  year  actually  begins  on  the 
last  Wednesday  of  September,  with  exercises  which  over- 
flow the  Gymnasium.  An  address  is  made  by  one  of  the 
professors.  Since  it  is  purely  a  family  party,  he  is 
not  unlikely  to  poke  fun  at  his  colleagues;  those,  for 
example,  "  who  mistake  a  part  of  archaeology  for  the 
whole  of  education  "  were  recently  held  up  to  derision. 
The  visiting  foreign  professors  usually  make  their  bow 
on  this  occasion. 

On  the  same  day  the  juniors  herd  together  the  fresh- 
men, to  meet  the  already  organized  sophomores  for  the 
first  of  three  contests  held  under  the  eye  of  the  Student 
Board  of  Representatives  and  designed  to  infuse  class 
spirit  into  the  youngsters.  Often  these  contests  seem 
rather  perfunctory,  but  sometimes  they  are  amusing  to 
watch.  The  losers  in  the  tug-of-war,  for  example,  are 
exposed  to  involuntary  baptism  from  a  hose  played  by 
the  referee  across  the  original  center  of  the  line.  Sus- 
ceptible freshmen  are  inveigled  into  purchasing  reserved 
seats  in  the  Chapel  or  are  sent  to  the  dean's  office  for 
their  gymnasium  towels,  and  after  dark  ambitious  mem- 
bers of  the  two  lower  classes  spend  laborious  hours  in 
painting  their  numerals  upon  the  fences,  only  to  find 
that  a  janitor  is  detailed  at  this  time  of  year  to  paint 
out  these  demonstrations  just  before  dawn. 

Lectures  begin  promptly  on  the  following  day,  and 
before  the  week  is  out  everything  is  running  as  smoothly 
as  if  there  had  been  no  interruption.    The  new  students, 


210  AN  ACADEMIC  YEAR 

and  there  are  some  two  thousand  of  them  to  be  assimi- 
lated each  year,  are  under  the  special  eye  of  their  deans 
and  advisers  and  of  the  men  at  the  student  building, 
Earl  Hall.  Receptions  are  held  to  bring  the  large  num- 
ber of  men  entering  the  upper  classes  into  touch  with 
one  another  and  with  representative  students,  and  the 
various  managers  are  dashing  about  among  all  the  new- 
comers looking  for  promising  recruits,  while  Spectator 
is  daily  urging  them  to  deeds  of  devotion.  The  Ex- 
tension classes  are  organized  a  week  or  so  later,  and 
the  initial  meeting  of  the  Institute  is  held.  In  the  mean- 
time the  several  academic  committees  are  getting  or- 
ganized for  the  winter  and  the  first  of  the  monthly  meet- 
ings of  the  trustees  and  the  faculties  are  held  in  tfie 
Trustees'  Room.  The  new  members  of  the  staff  and  their 
families  are  being  taken  into  the  academic  fold  at  an 
autumn  reception  and  through  the  good  offices  of  their 
departmental  seniors. 

Services  are  held  daily  in  St.  Paul's  Chapel,  which 
has  an  excellent  student  choir.  An  interesting  feature 
of  every  religious  service  held  in  the  Chapel  is  the  read- 
ing of  a  prayer  composed  by  the  first  President,  Samuel 
Johnson : 

**  May  God  Almighty  grant  that  this  College,  hap- 
pily founded,  may  ever  be  enriched  with  His  blessing; 
that  it  may  increase  and  flourish,  and  be  carried  on 
to  its  entire  perfection,  to  the  glory  of  His  name,  and 
the  adornment  of  His  true  religion  and  sound  learning, 
and  to  the  greatest  advantage  of  the  public  weal,  to 
all  posterities  forevermore. " 

At  Earl  Hall,  Bible  study  clubs  are  organized  and  op- 
portunities for  settlement  and  other  social  work  made 
for  the  large  number  of  men  and  women  who  volunteer 
for  this   purpose.     One  hundred  and  fifty  men  and 


OPENING  DAYS  211 

women  dined  together  there  this  year  and  discussed 
plans  for  the  future.  The  foreign  students  are  gathered 
for  Sunday  evening  suppers  in  the  home  of  the  Cosmo- 
politan Club. 

An  interesting  sight  on  these  autumn  days  is  the 
conduct  of  the  prescribed  classes  in  physical  education 
in  the  open  air  on  the  South  Field.  Each  new  under- 
classman, by  the  way,  receives  a  careful  physical  exami- 
nation, at  which  heart  and  eye  troubles  are  often  brought 
to  light  for  the  first  time.  Two  years  later  each  stu- 
dent receives  another  set  of  measurements;  in  many 
cases  the  development  under  intelligent  and  expert  guid- 
ance is  remarkable.  This  oversight,  and  the  availability 
of  the  University  Physician,  who  had  five  thousand  visits 
last  year,  do  their  share  in  maintaining  a  strikingly  low 
average  of  absence  from  academic  work  through  illness. 

In  October  comes  the  first  of  the  four  meetings  of  the 
University  Council,  at  which  questions  affecting  the  Uni- 
versity as  a  whole  receive  consideration. 

The  students  have  by  this  time  settled  down  into  their 
ordinary  routine  and  the  atmosphere  of  steady,  rapid 
work,  which  is  a  real  characteristic  of  Columbia,  is  made 
manifest.  Except  for  the  relatively  small  proportion 
of  idlers,  the  question  in  each  student's  mind  is  evi- 
dently not  how  little  but  how  much  he  can  get  out 
of  his  intellectual  opportunity.  Jack,  however,  has  no 
intention  of  being  made  a  dull  boy  by  an  entire  absence 
of  play.  The  dormitories  have  begun  to  organize  their 
informal  hops,  and  their  particular  organ,  the  Dorms, 
appears  on  Sunday  mornings.  The  existence  of  the 
fraternities  is  brought  forcibly  to  the  attention  of  the 
authorities  by  letters  of  protest  from  dwellers  in  the 
neighborhood  as  to  the  enthusiastic  and  protracted  na- 


212  AN  ACADEMIC  YEAR 

ture  of  their  initiation  ceremonies.  The  students  of 
architecture  are  also  prone  to  make  night  hideous  to  eye 
and  ear  by  costume  parades  to  mark  the  close  of  a  period 
of  industry  en  charette. 

The  basket-ball  games  and  subsequent  dances  begin 
to  attract  their  thousands  to  the  gymnasium,  and  other 
athletic  and  musical  activities  are  getting  under  way. 
The  undergraduate  papers  are  adopting  their  annual 
tone  of  condescending  pity  toward  one  another  and  the 
managers  of  all  student  activities  are  scurrying  in  eager 
quest  for  material,  human  and  financial.  The  editors  of 
the  university  annual,  the  Columbian,  are  busily  collect- 
ing the  multitudinous  details  which  are  to  go  into  that 
handsome  and  useful  publication.  Very  little  of  their 
time,  it  may  be  said  in  passing,  seems  to  be  devoted  to 
proof  reading. 

In  the  undergraduate  colleges  the  first  round-up  for 
the  year  is  being  made,  and  from  the  dean's  office  go 
out  messages  of  congratulation,  warning,  probation,  and 
even  of  farewell.  The  graduate  students  are  setting  the 
stage  for  their  researches  and  the  men  in  the  profes- 
sional schools  settling  into  their  stride. 

At  this  time  also  comes  the  first  meeting  of  the  Col- 
lege Forum,  where  undergraduate  teachers  and  students, 
on  a  basis  of  absolute  equality  and  with  delightful  frank- 
ness and  good  nature  on  both  sides,  debate  upon  matters 
affecting  the  undergraduate  life.  For  this  year  the 
question  of  primary  interest  is  the  transferring  of  re- 
sponsibility for  honesty  in  examinations  from  the  Uni- 
versity authorities  to  the  students  themselves. 

By  November,  the  public  lectures  and  addresses  given 
under  the  Institute  or  otherwise  are  in  full  swing.  It 
is  not  unusual  to  have  as  many  as  eighteen  of  these  ad- 
dresses  in    a   single    week.     To   say   nothing   of   the 


THE  YEAR'S  ROUTINE  213 

local  supply  of  celebrities,  nearly  all  persons  of  im- 
portance sooner  or  later  come  to  New  York,  and  stu- 
dents and  citizens  nearly  always  have  an  opportunity  to 
hear  them  at  the  University — an  opportunity  which  the 
males  among  the  former  too  frequently  neglect.  There 
is  a  story  of  a  visiting  bishop  who  was  invited  by  a 
student  club  to  address  its  members,  and  who  when  he 
went  to  the  appointed  place  found  not  a  single  soul; 
even  the  man  who  had  personally  tendered  the  invita- 
tion had  found  something  he  preferred  to  do  elsewhere. 
At  times,  of  course,  the  whole  community  decides  sim- 
ultaneously that  it  wants  to  hear  some  particular  man — 
"William  James,  for  instance,  or  Henri  Bergson.  On 
such  occasions  the  scene  at  the  doors  of  our  inadequate 
lecture  halls  takes  on  the  aspect  of  a  riot. 

Before  Thanksgiving  comes  the  first  of  the  impressive 
general  University  services  held  in  the  Chapel.  The 
professors,  instead  of  getting  a  brief  holiday  at  this  sea- 
son, usually  betake  themselves  to  the  meetings  of  some 
academic  society  at  Columbia  or  elsewhere. 

In  December  the  student  teas  and  faculty  receptions 
begin.  The  freshmen  and  sophomores  fight  it  out  by 
proxy  in  a  series  of  cane  sprees,  a  sort  of  combination 
of  wrestling  and  single  stick.  The  sophomores  also  have 
their  annual  play,  whose  chief  function  seems  to  be  to 
call  attention  by  contrast  to  the  really  excellent  per- 
formance of  the  University  Dramatic  Association,  also 
held  about  this  time.  On  Christmas  night  the  men  re- 
maining in  the  dormitories  light  the  yule  log  with 
becoming  pomp  and  circumstance.  This  is  one  of  the 
shows  of  the  year  and  the  reception  hall  of  Hartley  is 
packed  with  students  and  alumni.  It  is  interesting  to 
remember,  by  the  way,  that  two  of  the  best  known  Ameri- 
can contributions  to  the  literature  of  Christmas  are  from 


214  AN  ACADEMIC  YEAR 

the  pens  of  Columbia  men.  "  'Twas  the  Night  Before 
Christmas  "  was  written  by  Clement  C.  Moore  of  the 
class  of  1798,  son  of  President  Benjamin  Moore,  and  the 
famous  editorial  letter  answering  a  little  girl's  inquiry 
as  to  the  existence  of  Santa  Claus,  which  appeared  first 
in  the  New  York  Sun  in  1897,  was  written  by  Francis  P. 
Church  of  the  class  of  1859.  In  Hartley  also  the 
members  of  the  department  of  music,  from  time  to  time, 
discourse  sweet  music  on  Sunday  evenings  in  a  delight- 
fully informal  manner. 

Except  for  the  last  two  weeks  in  August,  the  Christ- 
mas holidays  are  the  deadest  time  of  the  year,  aca- 
demically speaking.  The  professors  are  many  of  them 
at  meetings  of  learned  societies  or  in  concealment  catch- 
ing up  arrears.  The  only  active  students  are  those  on 
the  Chess  Team,  who  are  usually  engaged  in  winning  the 
intercollegiate  championship. 

The  absorbing  interest  in  December,  for  the  staff,  is 
the  Budget.  The  students,  of  course,  know  nothing  about 
the  worries  of  their  teachers  at  this  time.  Indeed,  it 
is  extraordinary  how  little  the  average  undergraduate 
knows  about  such  matters.  My  own  student  days  fell 
during  the  intensely  interesting  period  from  1894  to 
1898,  and  as  I  look  back  I  blush  to  think  how  little  I 
knew  or  cared  about  what  was  going  on  all  about  me. 
To  come  back  to  the  budget,  which  for  the  sake  of  clear- 
ness it  may  be  well  to  follow  through  its  various  stages. 
All  through  November  the  departments  are  busy  with 
estimates  of  their  probable  expenses  for  the  year  begin- 
ning on  the  first  of  the  following  July,  and  as  these 
expenses  involve  questions  of  promotion  and  other  in- 
creases of  salary,  new  appointments  and  provisions  for 
research,  it  is  a  very  interesting  time  for  all  concerned, 


THE  BUDGET  215 

and  the  president  has  so  many  visitors  that  he  has  hardly- 
time  to  eat  his  meals.  These  estimates  are  finally  fin- 
ished and  are  sent  by  the  departments  through  the 
president,  and  with  his  recommendations  as  to  each  item, 
to  the  committee  on  education  of  the  trustees.  Here 
they  are  checked  by  another  set  of  recommendations, 
made  by  the  deans  on  behalf  of  their  respective  facul- 
ties. This  committee  literally  devotes  days  to  study, 
and,  as  the  sum-total  of  the  various  recommendations 
invariably  far  exceeds  the  ability  of  the  trustees  to 
provide  funds,  its  work  is  necessarily  a  thankless  one. 
The  report  of  the  committee  is  laid  before  the  trustees 
in  printed  form  on  the  first  Monday  in  January,  and 
is  referred  to  the  committee  on  finance,  by  which  it 
is  examined,  not  from  the  standpoint  of  the  items,  but 
from  the  standpoint  of  the  capacity  of  the  corporation 
to  meet  the  total  which  it  is  proposed  to  spend.  This 
second  committee  submits  its  report  to  the  trustees 
at  the  February  meeting,  and  the  budget,  with  the  rec- 
ommendations of  the  two  committees,  is  made  a  special 
order  for  the  first  Monday  in  March.  When  it  is  re- 
membered that  the  budgets  of  the  four  corporations  of 
the  University  represent  a  total  of  something  more  than 
three  millions  of  dollars,  it  can  be  seen  that  a  rather 
elaborate  system  is  necessary,  both  to  insure  careful 
consideration  and  at  the  same  time  to  see  that  decisions 
are  reached  early  enough  to  permit  the  departments  to 
make  their  spring  announcements  and  when  necessary 
to  provide  for  new  positions. 

The  annual  meeting  of  the  Faculty  Club  comes  in 
January,  when  men  who  have  dared  to  criticise  the 
administration  are  elected  to  the  house  committee  as 
a  suitable  punishment.     Among  the  students,  the  de- 


216  AN  ACADEMIC  YEAR 

haters  and  other  public  speakers  are  aroused  to  action. 
Besides  speaking  themselves,  the  men  interested  in  this 
side  of  undergraduate  life  conduct  public-speaking  con- 
tests for  schoolboys.  Later  on  the  youngsters  are  en- 
ticed to  the  University,  for  proselyting  purposes, 
by  receptions  and  athletic  contests.  Swimming  and 
hockey  are  to  the  fore  and  the  crew  squad  is  getting 
under  way.  The  mid-year  examinations,  however,  are 
drawing  nearer  every  day  and  there  is  standing  room 
only  in  the  library.  These  examinations  are  held  in  the 
gymnasium  and  are  closely  proctored,  a  system  rather 
irritating  to  many  of  the  students,  but  effective  in  elimi- 
nating "  cribbing." 

At  the  beginning  of  the  second  term  a  new  set  of 
undergraduates  has  to  be  assimilated  into  the  system, 
for  the  College  admits  nearly  one  hundred  boys  at  this 
time.  Shortly  afterwards  comes  Junior  "Week,  which 
has  been  built  about  the  original  junior  ball  that  has 
come  down  from  older  days.  This  week  is  as  close  an 
imitation  of  the  conventional  performance  at  other  col- 
leges as  the  socially  minded  members  of  the  class  can 
succeed  in  making  it,  and  they  succeed  better  than  some 
of  their  teachers,  whose  work  is  neglected,  would  like. 

Lincoln's  Birthday  has,  since  1908,  been  set  apart  as 
Alumni  Day.  This  is  a  thoroughly  characteristic  Colum- 
bia occasion  and  attracts  great  numbers  of  former  stu- 
dents to  the  University.  In  the  morning  classes  are 
visited,  and  the  afternoon  proceedings  begin  with  a  seri- 
ous meeting,  at  which  matters  of  general  alumni  interest 
are  discussed.  Then  there  are  various  informal  proceed- 
ings, the  dominating  spirits  being  the  Early  Eighties, 
that  inimitable  organization  of  the  graduates  of  1880- 
1884.  The  Early  Eighties  have  all  drunk  deep  at  the 
fountain  of  perpetual  youth  and  can  be  counted  upon 


WINTER  AND  SPRING  217 

to  appear  in  force  upon  any  pretext,  always  accom- 
panied by  a  band  of  three  performers  in  Continental 
uniform.  Their  example  has  resulted  in  similar  class 
groupings,  but  none  of  these  have  as  yet  succeeded  in 
rivaling  the  original  model.  Later  in  the  afternoon, 
everyone  goes  to  the  gymnasium  to  see  the  representa- 
tives of  the  younger  alumni  classes  offer  "  stunts  "  in 
competition  for  prizes.  Some  of  the  stunts  are  really 
very  amusing,  others  might  seem  a  little  tedious  to  a 
crowd  less  firmly  determined  to  be  entertained.  Then 
there  is  a  Jeffersonian  beefsteak  dinner  in  the  com- 
mons, with  speech-making  tabooed,  and  the  proceedings 
terminate  by  attendance  upon  one  of  the  championship 
basket-ball  games  in  the  gymnasium.  At  Teachers  Col- 
lege a  series  of  important  educational  conferences  are 
held  about  this  time,  at  which  more  than  one  thousand 
of  the  alumni  are  present. 

During  the  spring  the  departments  are  busy  with  ar- 
rangements for  the  new  year  and  the  professors  in  the 
graduate  school  are  overwhelmed  with  the  reading  of 
doctoral  dissertations,  a  necessary  but  not  always  an 
enlivening  task;  the  undergraduates  get  a  chance  at 
the  dean's  house  to  talk  over  their  futures  with  repre- 
sentatives of  various  callings,  and  the  different  profes- 
sional and  semi-social,  semi-scholarly  societies  hold  most 
of  their  meetings.  These  meetings  are  an  important 
factor  in  the  student  life. 

The  elaborate  'Varsity  Show  comes  off  after  a  series 
of  time-consuming  but  doubtless  enjoyable  rehearsals. 
The  French  and  German  societies  give  their  plays.  Vo- 
cal and  instrumental  concerts  of  varying  degrees  of  merit 
are  presented — the  most  interesting  being  an  open-air 
inter-class  song  contest,  held  in  the  beautiful  setting  of 
the  great  court  in  front  of  the  Library. 


218  AN  ACADEMIC  YEAR 

Some  two  hundred  delegates  from  colleges  all  over 
the  country  come  to  Columbia  at  about  this  time  to 
attend  the  meeting  of  the  Intercollegiate  Civic  League. 
This  meeting  is  followed  by  a  trip  to  Washington,  where 
the  delegates  are  received  by  the  President  of  the  United 
States.  At  about  this  time  also  comes  in  presidential 
years  the  mock  political  convention.  The  whole  col- 
lege is  organized  into  a  nominating  convention.  There 
are  speeches  from  all  the  States  and  the  whole  place 
buzzes  with  oratory  and  committee  meetings  and  booms 
of  various  sizes.  The  students  have  a  glorious  tim^, 
and  when  it  is  all  over  they  have  acquired  a  grasp  of 
the  machinery  of  national  politics  that  will  last  through- 
out their  lives.  Not  long  afterwards  the  students  have 
their  own  politics  to  attend  to  in  the  elections  to  the 
Student  Board  of  Representatives  and  to  class  offices 
for  the  ensuing  year. 

The  best  of  the  seniors  in  the  professional  schools 
are  choosing  among  the  various  invitations  for  positions 
after  graduation;  for  a  man  who  has  made  his  mark 
in  a  good  professional  school  is  nowadays  a  much-sought- 
after  individual.  The  other  more  serious  students  are 
busy  with  fellowship  and  prize  contests,  and  Avery  Hall 
is  lighted  till  long  past  midnight  for  the  students  com- 
peting for  the  intercollegiate  contests  in  architectural 
design.  In  general,  however,  there  is  a  lightening  of 
the  strain  during  the  early  warm  days.  It  seems  a  good 
deal  more  natural,  even  for  a  professor,  to  stop  to  watch 
the  baseball  or  track  practice  or  a  tennis  match  than  to 
go  on  to  the  Library  as  one  had  intended.  The  aban- 
doned ones  even  take  a  day  off  to  see  the  crew  row  at 
Princeton. 

Toward  the  first  of  May  the  advisers  are  besieged 
by  students   (who,  in  most  eases,  have  until  then  left 


WINTER  AND  SPRING  219 

them  severely  alone)  for  help  in  working  out  schedules 
for  the  coming  year. 

The  Sophomore  Triumph  is  one  of  the  social  phe- 
nomena of  springtime.  It  harks  back  to  a  ceremony 
established  by  the  Class  of  1866  and  known  for  many 
years  as  the  *'  burial  of  the  Ancient  " — Ancient  Geog- 
raphy being  the  most  detested  part  of  the  sophomore 
curriculum.  It  may  be  noted  in  passing  that  the  chair- 
man of  the  1882  Triumph  committee  is  now  the  Presi- 
dent of  the  University.  Of  late  years  the  Triumph, 
which  is  now  over  history  and  mathematics,  had  degen- 
erated into  rather  a  discreditable  affair,  but  last  year's 
celebration  showed  promise  of  a  return  to  the  old  tradi- 
tion. Another  characteristic  springtime  festival  is  the 
Greek  Games,  held  at  Barnard  College.  If,  by  the  way, 
I  have  given  but  little  space  to  the  student  enterprises 
of  Barnard  and  Teachers  College,  it  does  not  mean  that 
they  are  not  both  many  and  picturesque,  but  is  due  to 
the  fact  that  the  mere  male  in  our  community  has  but 
little  opportunity  to  learn  of  them  at  first-hand. 

Besides  the  regular  "  finals,"  a  repetition  of  the 
February  ordeal,  oral  examinations  are  held  for  candi- 
dates for  the  doctor's  degree  and  for  an  honors  de- 
gree in  the  College,  the  latter,  with  the  elan  vital  of 
youth  on  their  side,  occasionally  making  a  better  showing 
than  their  more  learned  seniors. 

The  preparations  for  Commencement  have  long  since 
been  under  way.  The  president,  for  example,  who  has 
to  sign  fifteen  hundred  and  more  diplomas,  has  been  do- 
ing a  few  at  a  time  ever  since  Christmas.  From  now  on 
these  preparations,  however,  become  apparent.  Bushes 
are  trimmed  and  quick-growing  oats  sowed  to  conceal 
student  shortcuts.    The  lame  ducks  are  making  one  final 


220  AN  ACADEMIC  YEAR 

effort  to  soften  the  hearts  of  obdurate  deans  and  com- 
mittees. For  a  dozen  years  or  so  the  seniors  have,  in  a 
baseball  game,  had  their  final  chance  to  get  the  better 
of  the  faculty  and  have  succeeded  in  doing  it  in  less  than 
half  the  cases.  They  are  more  successful  in  chess,  in 
which  field  of  activity  the  faculty  enthusiasts  are  regu- 
larly trounced. 

Since  June  of  1865,  Class  Day  has  been  held  sepa- 
rately from  Commencement.  Its  features  are  good,  but 
rather  in  the  conventional  mold,  the  most  striking  con- 
tribution being  usually  the  class  poem.  ' '  Stand  Colum- 
bia," the  university  hymn,  was  first  read  as  a  class 
poem.  Barnard  has  its  own  Class  Day,  and  Teachers 
College  an  excursion  on  the  Hudson  and  a  lawn  party. 
On  the  day  before  Commencement  comes  the  Phi  Beta 
Kappa  address,  always  well  worth  hearing.  President 
Lowell's  first  public  announcement  of  policy  after  his 
election  as  president  of  Harvard  University  was  made 
at  a  Phi  Beta  Kappa  address  at  Columbia. 

During  the  last  few  days  the  registrar's  and  secre- 
tary's offices  have  been  working  night  and  day,  and 
absent-minded  professors  who  have  forgotten  to  send  in 
the  marks  of  candidates  for  graduation  are  bombarded 
by  telegrams. 

Before  describing  a  Columbia  Commencement  as  it 
is  to-day,  it  may  be  interesting  to  look  back  over  the 
history  of  the  ceremony.  The  first  Commencement  was 
held  on  June  21,  1758,  and  was  conducted,  as  the  news- 
paper reports  of  the  day  record,  with  elegance  and  pro- 
priety. Seven  degrees  were  granted.  The  ceremony  was 
held  at  St.  George's  Chapel,  and  from  then  on  various 
buildings  in  the  city  were  used.  It  was  not  until  Mr. 
Low's  time  that  all  parts  of  the  University  had  Com- 
mencement together,  and  not  until  the  opening  of  the 


COMMENCEMENT  221 

new  site  that  the  exercises  was  held  at  the  University. 
The  Commencement  of  1779  was  honored  by  the  presence 
of  George  Washington,  At  the  first  Commencement  of 
Columbia  College,  1786,  the  Weekly  Gazette  records  the 
fact  that  "  the  Continental  Congress  and  both  Houses 
of  the  Legislature  suspended  the  public  business  to  sup- 
port the  important  interests  of  education  by  their 
countenance  and  graced  the  ceremony  by  their  august 
presence. ' ' 

The  Commencement  of  1811,  held  in  Trinity  Church, 
comes  down  to  us  as  the  Riotous  Commencement.  A 
student  on  that  occasion  was  refused  his  diploma  be- 
cause he  declined  to  amend  the  language  of  his  oration 
as  directed  by  the  faculty.  He  appealed  to  the  audi- 
ence and  certain  young  alumni  took  his  part.  The  dis- 
order was  so  great  that  several  of  the  participants  were 
arrested  and  tried  before  Mayor  DeWitt  Clinton.  This 
affair  affected  New  York  politics  for  many  years.  In 
the  fifties  again  the  Commencements  were  apparently 
rather  disorderly.  The  regulations  of  the  trustees  per- 
mitting mild  and  decorous  applause  make  it  appear,  at 
any  rate,  that  applause  was  not  always  of  this  char- 
acter. Indeed,  older  graduates  tell  me  that  the  differ- 
ent fraternities  used  to  organize  violent  claques  to  greet 
their  members  when  they  appeared  on  the  platform. 
Since  Mr.  Low 's  time  the  students  have  been  seen  but  not 
heard.  Until  the  last  decade  of  the  nineteenth  century 
the  proceedings  never  seemed  to  have  been  of  any  par- 
ticular academic  importance. 

The  Commencement  of  1894  was  made  notable  by 
the  presentation  to  Professor  Drisler,  retiring  after  a 
half  century  of  service,  of  a  gold  medal  struck  in  his 
honor,  and  that  of  1910  was  signalized  by  an  extraor- 
dinary  tribute   to   the   retiring   dean,   Professor   Van 


222  AN  ACADEMIC  YEAR 

Amringe,  who,  like  Drisler,  had  rounded  out  a  half 
century  of  notable  service  to  the  College. 

To-day,  Commencement  is  perhaps  most  notable  for 
the  effectiveness  and  punctuality  with  which  everything 
goes  off,  and  this  is  due  to  the  fact  that  everything  has 
carefully  been  thought  out  beforehand.  Indeed,  the 
committee  in  charge  is  supposed  to  have  special  influ- 
ence even  upon  the  weather,  because  there  has  been  but 
one  rainy  day  since  the  exercises  have  been  held  at 
the  University.  The  amount  of  detailed  planning  and 
care  necessary  to  bring  the  exercises  to  a  close  within 
the  allotted  period  of  an  hour  and  a  half  can  be 
appreciated  when  one  remembers  that  more  than  sixteen 
hundred  degrees  and  diplomas  are  granted.  As  an  exam- 
ple of  how  rapid  the  recent  growth  of  the  University  has 
been,  it  may  be  mentioned  in  passing  that  this  number  has 
doubled  within  the  short  space  of  half  a  dozen  years. 
Every  detail  in  the  proceedings  is  checked  by  a  stop- 
watch in  the  hands  of  one  of  the  members  of  the  com- 
mittee so  that  any  unnecessary  waste  of  time  may  be 
eliminated  in  the  future. 

The  first  Commencement  held  upon  the  grounds  of  the 
University  was  in  1898.  It  was  then  expected  that  the 
gymnasium  would  be  used  for  only  a  year  or  so  for 
this  purpose.  It  is  still  in  use,  however,  and,  consider- 
ing that  it  was  designed  for  a  wholly  different  purpose, 
it  makes  an  excellent  assembly  hall.  The  candidates 
themselves,  however,  now  more  than  half  fill  it,  so  that 
it  is  quite  impossible  for  every  graduate  to  have  even 
his  father  and  mother  present  to  witness  his  receipt 
of  the  degree. 

An  interesting  recent  experiment,  which  promises  well 
for  the  future,  is  a  general  reception  and  garden  party 
on  the  night  before  Commencement,  with  president  and 


COMMENCEMENT  223 

deans  on  a  receiving  line  and  a  band  out  of  doors.  This 
gives  everyone  a  pleasant  evening  and  serves  to  relieve 
the  bitterness  on  the  part  of  those  who,  owing  to  the 
lack  of  space  at  the  formal  commencement  exercises,  fail 
to  receive  tickets  therefor. 

The  proceedings,  which  since  1901  have  been  wholly 
in  English,  are  conducted  in  a  dignified  and  impressive 
manner,  there  being  none  of  the  "  ragging  "  which  oc- 
curs at  an  encania  at  Oxford.  The  trustees,  faculties, 
and  candidates  assemble  in  the  Library  building  and 
march  in  procession  through  the  grounds  to  the  Gym- 
nasium, already  crowded  beyond  its  capacity  with  par- 
ents and  friends,  where  the  formal  proceedings  begin  lit- 
erally on  the  tick  of  the  clock.  The  president  makes  a 
brief  address  to  those  about  to  receive  degrees,  in  which 
he  gives  them  some  very  useful  advice,  which  it  is  to 
be  hoped  they  follow  in  after  years.  This  is  the  first 
of  some  dozen  addresses  which  he  must  needs  deliver  on 
this  one  day.  After  this  the  candidates  for  each  degree 
are  formally  presented  by  their  respective  deans  and 
their  degrees  are  conferred  en  bloc  by  the  president. 
Perhaps  the  most  impressive  part  of  this  proceeding  has 
been  the  administration  by  the  late  Professor  John  G. 
Curtis  to  the  candidates  for  a  degree  in  medicine  of  the 
Hippocratic  Oath.  It  is  hard  to  see  who  can  be  found 
to  take  his  place ;  in  any  case  his  own  eloquent  transla- 
tion of  the  oath  is  certain  to  be  used: 

Candidates  for  the  degree  of  doctor  of  medicine — 

You  do  solemnly  swear,  each  man  by  whatever  he 
holds  most  sacred : 

That  you  will  be  loyal  to  the  profession  of  medicine 
and  just  and  generous  to  its  members; 

That  you  will  lead  your  lives  and  practice  your  art 
in  uprightness  and  honor  j 


224  AN  ACADEMIC  YEAR 

That  into  whatsoever  house  you  shall  enter,  it  shall 
be  for  the  good  of  the  sick  to  the  utmost  of  your  power, 
you  holding  yourselves  far  aloof  from  wrong,  from  cor- 
ruption, from  the  tempting  of  others  to  vice ; 

That  you  will  exercise  your  art  solely  for  the  cure 
of  your  patients,  and  will  give  no  drug,  perform  no 
operation,  for  a  criminal  purpose,  even  if  solicited;  far 
less  suggest  it ; 

That  whatsoever  you  shall  see  or  hear  of  the  lives 
of  men  which  is  not  fitting  to  be  spoken,  you  will  keep 
inviolably  secret. 

These  things  do  you  swear?  Let  each  man  bow  the 
head  in  sign  of  acquiescence. 

And  now,  if  you  shall  be  true  to  this,  your  oath,  may 
prosperity  and  good  repute  be  yours;  the  opposite,  if 
you  shall  prove  yourselves  forsworn. 

The  candidates  for  honorary  degrees,  usually  seven  or 
eight  in  number,  are  then  presented  to  the  president 
by  the  University  orator,  and  each  degree  is  conferred 
with  a  summary  of  the  qualifications  of  the  recipient, 
as  eloquent  as  it  is  terse. 

After  the  formal  exercises  there  are  always  several 
alumni  gifts  to  be  offered  and  accepted.  Then  comes  the 
Alumni  Luncheon,  seven  hundred  or  more  men  crowd- 
ing into  a  room  in  which  four  hundred  can  be  hardly 
accommodated  with  comfort.  Some  day  a  jostled  mil- 
lionaire alumnus  may  give  us  a  suitable  building  on  the 
spur  of  the  moment.  This  luncheon  is  the  occasion  for 
wild  cheering  of  everybody  and  everything.  The  re- 
cipients of  honorary  degrees  make  brief  addresses  (at 
least,  they  are  asked  to  make  them  brief)  and  each  new- 
bom  Columbia  man  invariably  begins  by  an  apt  refer- 
ence to  his  Fellow  Alumni. 

The  president's  admirable  summary  of  the  year  just 
closing,  which  brings  these  proceedings  to  the  end,  is 


OTHER  PAGEANTS  225 

looked  forward  to  by  the  alumni  as  perhaps  the  most 
important  announcement  of  the  year.  I  well  remember 
the  scene  at  the  luncheon  in  1903,  when  the  president 
of  the  graduating  class  was  discovered  listening  through 
a  keyhole  to  Dr.  Butler's  announcement  that  he  had 
been  instrumental  in  providing  the  dormitories  for  which 
the  alumni  had  so  long  been  waiting.  The  boy  wished 
to  hear  what  was  said,  but  feared  the  plaudits  of  the 
multitude. 

After  the  luncheon  everyone  moves  to  South  Field, 
where  the  younger  classes,  after  the  prevailing  fashion 
of  the  day  among  American  universities,  garb  themselves 
in  weird  costumes  and  perform  to  the  edification  of  the 
onlookers.  Then  comes  the  baseball  game,  which  the 
"  Varsity  "  is  seldom  considerate  enough  to  win.  Then 
come  a  series  of  class  dinners.  After  various  experi- 
ments, more  or  less  successful,  the  simplest  method  of 
entertaining  the  alumni  after  dinner  has  turned  out  to 
be  to  let  them  entertain  themselves  by  singing,  and 
hundreds  of  the  alumni  on  each  commencement  night 
now  gather  on  the  steps  of  the  Library  and,  to  tlie 
accompaniment  of  a  good  band,  sing  to  their  hearts' 
content  and  to  the  enjoyment  of  the  thousands  of  citi- 
zens that  gather  in  the  court  below. 

Columbia  is  rather  notable  for  its  academic  pageants, 
and  perhaps  a  summary  of  some  of  these  other  than  the 
commencement  exercises  may  be  of  interest.  In  1837 
there  was  a  semi-centennial  of  the  foundation  of  Colum- 
bia College  undertaken  on  the  initiative  of  the  students. 
A  bitter  controversy  between  the  trustees,  faculty, 
and  alumni  prevented  any  celebration  of  the  centenary 
of  the  founding  of  King's  College  in  1854.  The  double 
birthday,  already  referred  to,  makes  these  centennials 


226  AN  ACADEMIC  YEAR 

occur  with  suspicious  frequency.  The  centenary  of 
Columbia  College  was  celebrated  in  1887,  on  which  oc- 
casion many  honorary  degrees  were  granted  and  three 
or  four  thousand  people  were  present.  Three  years  later 
the  inauguration  of  President  Low  was  made  the  occasion 
of  suitable  academic  ceremony.  At  the  inauguration  of 
his  successor,  eleven  years  later,  there  were  present  the 
President  of  the  United  States,  the  Governor  of  the 
State,  and  the  Mayor  of  the  City,  all  of  whom  had  heen 
students  at  Columbia.  In  1896  the  new  site  of  the 
University  and  the  six  new  buildings  then  erected  had 
been  dedicated. 

Then  came  the  one  hundred  and  fiftieth  anniversary 
of  the  founding  of  King's  College.  Perhaps  the  largest 
number  of  persons  ever  gathered  together  at  Columbia 
was  on  this  occasion  at  the  reception  of  the  trustees, 
when  between  fifteen  and  twenty  thousand  people  were 
upon  the  grounds. 

From  Commencement,  which  is  held  on  the  first 
Wednesday  in  June,  to  the  end  of  that  month  is  the 
home  stretch  of  the  year.  All  of  the  administrative  and 
many  of  the  teaching  officers  are  very  busy  with  duties 
which,  though  not  of  particular  public  interest,  must 
needs  be  attended  to.  The  most  conspicuous  event 
of  the  month  is  the  conduct  of  the  examinations  of 
the  College  Entrance  Examination  Board.  They  bring 
to  the  Faculty  Club  a  number  of  readers  from 
institutions  all  over  the  country,  who  fit  as  ac- 
ceptably into  our  academic  life  as  do  the  visiting 
professors  at  the  Summer  Session  a  fortnight  later. 
When  one  views  all  the  modern  machinery  and  organi- 
zation for  the  conduct  of  these  examinations,  it  is  inter- 
esting to  remember  that  only  threescore  years  ago  the 


THE  HOME  STRETCH 


227 


entire  business  of  the  admission  of  students  was  held 
in  the  small  chapel  by  a  triumvirate,  the  president  sit- 
ting in  the  middle,  the  professor  of  classics  on  one  side 
and  the  professor  of  mathematics,  with  his  blackboard, 
on  the  other. 


vin 

CONCLUSION 

The  Present  Status.  Factors  Aifecting  the  Future.  Scheme  of 
Organization.  Externalism.  The  Burden  of  Proof.  Need  for 
Elasticity.  Alumni  Influence.  Gaps  in  Present  Offering.  Re- 
stricted Space  and  Limitation  of  Numbers.  Financial  Support 
and  Requirements.  Points  of  Contact.  Academic  Co-operation. 
Other  Relations.  Local  Ties.  Responsibilities.  Teaching.  Re- 
search.   Public  Service.    Outlook.    The  Place  of  the  University. 

Even  a  concluding  chapter,  which  endeavors  to  give 
any  forecast  as  to  the  future  of  an  organization  so  very- 
much  alive  as  Columbia,  must  at  the  best  be  rather 
inconclusive.  Stranger  things  have  happened  than  that 
an  earthquake  should  bring  Macaulay's  hypothetical 
New  Zealander  to  the  ruins  of  St.  John's  Cathedral  in- 
stead of  St.  Paul's;  and  even  if  no  catastrophe  should 
come  to  the  city  upon  which  the  University  depends  so 
vitally,  no  man  can  forecast  what  social  and  intellectual 
earthquakes  the  future  has  in  store,  nor  how  they  will 
affect  our  higher  education. 

Our  American  universities  owe  their  present  charac- 
ter to  four  strains  of  influence :  that  of  the  English  uni- 
versity, coming  through  the  independent  college;  that 
of  the  intensely  practical  early  professional  schools  of 
America,  and  that  of  the  German  university.  The 
fourth  element,  while  not  so  definite,  is  perhaps  the 
most  important  of  all,  the  intense  national  interest  of 
our  people  in  higher  education.  Columbia  University 
has  been  splendidly  endowed  "  by  nature,  by  the  ad- 
vance of  civilization,  by  the  lives  and  bounty  of  men." 
In  his  book  on  Great  American  Universities,  Dr.  Slos- 


FACTORS  AFFECTING  THE  FUTURE   229 

son  emphasizes  the  several  factors  with  regard  to 
Columbia.  Its  position  in  the  largest  city  has  given 
it  the  chance  to  become  the  greatest  of  American  uni- 
versities and  it  seems  to  be  improving  the  chance.  Its 
administration  has  been  efficient,  progressive,  and  cour- 
ageous. He  speaks  also  of  the  spaciousness  and  beauty 
of  the  buildings,  of  rapid  development,  amounting  almost 
to  complete  transformation  within  fifteen  years,  and  of 
the  spirit  of  initiative  and  liberality  in  the  institution  as 
a  whole.  He  believes  the  six-year  combined  academic 
and  professional  programs  to  be  of  great  importance, 
and  gives  Columbia  credit  for  having  done  more  than 
any  of  the  State  universities,  and  more  than  all  of  the 
women 's  colleges  for  the  education  of  women.  He  recog- 
nizes the  honorable  history  and  vigorous  present  of  the 
professional  schools,  and  throughout  the  institution  the 
simultaneous  service  to  scholarship  and  to  the  public. 
He  concludes  by  saying:  "  Columbia  University  has 
the  essential  qualities  for  success,  initiative,  adaptabil- 
ity, and  opportunity.  If  it  continues  to  progress  as  it 
has  in  recent  years,  it  is  likely  to  take  a  position  among 
the  universities  of  the  country  similar  to  that  of  New 
York  among  the  cities." 

Can  we,  however,  assume  that  this  progress  will  be 
continued?  Setting  aside  the  chance  of  any  physical 
or  social  cataclysm,  and  assuming  practically  the  same 
environmental  conditions  as  have  prevailed  for  the  past 
quarter  century,  there  are,  nevertheless,  certain  ques- 
tions which  must  be  faced  by  one  who  attempts  to  look 
into  the  future.  Is  the  scheme  of  organization  and 
government  which  now  controls  the  University  one 
under  which  it  will  continue  to  perform  its  best  service 
to  the  community  ?    Is  its  future  conditioned  by  any  defi- 


230  CONCLUSION 

nite  lack  in  its  present  offering?  How  will  limited  space 
and  the  question  of  numbers  affect  the  future?  Is  the 
financial  support  likely  to  increase  or  decrease?  What 
of  its  relationship  to  other  institutions  of  learning  and 
to  the  community  at  large,  particularly  to  the  city  of 
New  York?  "Will  it  be  able  to  maintain  and  develop 
its  threefold  function — ^teaching,  research,  and  other 
public  service  ?  Will  it,  finally,  be  able  to  retain  a  clear 
untroubled  gaze  into  the  future? 

There  is  to-day  considerable  petulance  and  some  seri- 
ous criticism  as  to  the  conditions  of  organization  and 
particularly  of  emphasis  in  our  American  universities. 
It  is  easy  to  blame  the  status  quo  for  the  common  frail- 
ties of  human  nature  and  we  may  dismiss  much  of  the 
utterances  of  some  of  our  academic  pathologists,  who 
appear  to  believe  that  whatever  is,  is  wrong,  and  appar- 
ently read  the  Scripture  verse  somewhat  as  follows: 
**  The  present  letter  killeth,  but  our  particular  kind  of 
letter  would  give  light  if  we  had  a  chance  to  enforce 
it."  It  should  be  remembered,  too,  that  they  are  pro- 
tected from  actual  martyrdom  by  the  very  fact  that 
their  immolation,  even  though  this  may  be  richly  de- 
served for  the  crime  of  academic  bad  manners,  would 
be  immediately  attributed  to  the  existence  of  the  awful 
conditions  they  imagine  and  set  forth.  One  of  the  aca- 
demic worthies  called  in  by  the  Columbia  trustees  for 
advice,  in  1857,  gave  this  very  sensible  counsel :  "  If 
there  be  disagreement  and  dissatisfaction  in  the  Faculty, 
I  should  never  attempt  to  smother  it.  Let  it  explode — 
much  the  safest  way — in  some  regular  manner."  Some 
rich  malefactor  with  a  grim  sense  of  humor  should  found 
a  university,  appoint  to  his  faculties  only  men  of  this 
type,  and  then  let  the  world  see  how  they  would  run 
themselves. 


EXTERNALISM  231 

Even  though  epithets  are  not  arguments,  however,  the 
presence  in  our  academic  community  of  those  who  wield 
the  dagger  of  lath  is  not  a  bad  thing.  Experience  shows 
that  from  time  to  time  the  right  path  may  be  pointed 
out  as  clearly  with  this  instrument  as  with  another. 
Some  of  the  critics,  moreover,  are  more  temperate,  and 
certain  changes  which  they  recommend  have  already 
been  made  in  the  organization  of  Cornell  and  are  under 
consideration  at  the  University  of  Illinois. 

Professor  Stratton  of  the  University  of  California 
says  that  what  he  believes  to  be  our  evil  conditions  come 
primarily  from  a  passion  in  our  people  for  visible  ac- 
complishment, a  love  of  dimension,  an  admiration  for 
alert  administration,  for  forceful  public  utterance,  which 
things  he  groups  under  the  term  **  externalism. "  In 
his  judgment  European  universities  have  a  constitution 
that  might  have  come  from  some  American  political 
theorist.  American  universities  are  as  though  founded 
and  fostered  in  some  hotbed  of  aristocracy.  He  and 
other  critics  point  to  the  organization  of  the  German  uni- 
versities as  a  model  to  follow,  and  fear  that  the  central- 
ization of  power  and  responsibility  in  the  trustees  and 
president  here  will  ultimately  kill  scholarly  and  scientific 
initiative  and  enthusiasm  and  drive  out  of  the  academic 
life  the  very  men  upon  whom  the  university  must  de- 
pend for  its  greatest  usefulness.  "  Great  personalities 
make  great  universities,  and  great  personalities  must 
be  left  free  to  grow  and  express  themselves  each  in  his 
own  way  if  they  are  to  reach  the  maximum  of  efficiency. ' ' 
Are  these  men  right  or  are  the  men  who  believe  like 
President  Butler — to  whom,  by  the  way,  the  quotation 
above  should  be  credited — that  the  secret  of  the  success 
of  the  present  system  of  academic  administration  in 
America  is  that  the  trustees  and  the  president  view 


232  CONCLUSION 

the  university  as  a  whole  and  in  its  largest  public  rela- 
tions, rising  above  the  temporary  interests  of  individual 
teachers,  departments,  faculties,  or  schools?  "  The  uni- 
versity is  a  living  and  growing  society  of  men,  some 
of  whom  are  charged  with  the  direct  responsibility  for 
its  policy  and  government  and  all  of  whom  are  charged 
with  responsibility  for  the  ideals  and  the  character  of 
the  university  and  for  its  larger  relationships  to  the 
public." 

If  we  are  indeed  in  danger  from  externalism,  Colum- 
bia should  consider  her  ways  with  care,  for,  free  as  she 
is  from  all  external  control  of  state,  church,  or  even  of 
her  own  alumni,  any  change  in  her  organism  must,  if 
it  come  at  all,  come  from  within.  There  is  no  doubt 
as  to  the  relatively  high  degree  of  her  centralization 
among  American  universities,  and  it  is  possible  that 
much  of  our  academic  machinery,  perhaps  necessary  in 
the  days  of  organization,  might  now  be  discarded.  To 
quote  Dr.  Slosson  once  more :  '  *  The  summer  session  has 
somewhat  the  same  good  effect  on  a  university  that  a 
camping  trip  has  on  a  city  man.  It  shows  how  many  of 
the  necessities  of  life  one  can  get  along  without.  En- 
trance examinations,  restrictions,  classifications,  regula- 
tions, segregations,  conformity,  positions,  customs,  and 
the  like  tend  to  lose  their  importance  to  one  who  has 
served  through  a  summer  session  or  two."  Academic 
machinery  should  never  be  allowed  to  dominate  the 
teacher  nor  to  gain  control  of  the  imagination  of  the 
teacher  and  the  taught. 

Perhaps,  too,  the  trustees  and  the  president — ^who,  by 
the  way,  are  under  no  illusions  as  to  their  ability  to  make 
mistakes  like  other  people — may  keep  more  clearly  in 
mind  than  they  have  sometimes  done  in  the  past  the 
ever-present  danger  of  forgetting,  under  the  high  pres- 


THE  BURDEN  OF  PROOF  233 

sure  of  our  American  life,  to  consult  with  those  likely 
to  be  affected  by  any  proposed  change.  When  such  con- 
sultation is  held,  say  with  regard  to  a  new  appointment, 
the  result  is  that,  without  any  formal  responsibility  for 
what  happens,  the  professors  of  any  academic  field  really 
appoint  their  new  colleagues.  "While  the  technical  re- 
sponsibility lies  with  the  president,  he  would  never  feel 
justified  in  going  over  the  advice  of  those  already  in 
service  in  a  field  closely  connected  with  that  in  which  a 
new  appointment  is  to  be  made.  So  far  as  the  trustees 
of  Columbia  are  concerned,  it  is  certain  that  they  have 
been  at  their  best  when  dealing  with  general  problems; 
at  their  worst  when  trying  to  control  details  of  adminis- 
tration, particularly  in  the  professional  schools.  That 
a  man  is  a  brilliant  lawyer  or  a  successful  practitioner 
of  medicine  does  not  constitute  him  an  expert  as  to  the 
educational  preparation  for  either  of  these  professions. 

As  to  any  fundamental  change  in  our  academic  or- 
ganization, however,  ought  not  the  burden  of  proof  to 
lie  with  the  critics?  We  must  not  forget  the  extraor- 
dinary development  of  higher  education  in  the  United 
States  under  the  present  system,  and  the  further  fact 
that  English  and  Continental  universities,  observant 
of  this  development,  are  moving  toward  some  such  sys- 
tem as  we  at  present  have,  particularly  in  the  constitu- 
tion of  the  office  of  president,  a  peculiarly  American 
invention.  It  may  be  asked  also  whether  the  reason 
the  German  universities  can  have  their  outward  appear- 
ance of  democracy  is  not  because  of  the  strong  cen- 
tralized Kultusministerium  in  the  background,  just 
as  in  America  the  colleges  certificating  for  admission 
can  maintain  a  "more  generous  than  thou"  attitude 
only  because  behind  them  stand  either  the  strong  ex- 


234  CONCLUSION 

amining  colleges  or  a  strong  centralized  system  of  state 
control  of  education.  The  historical  background  of  the 
European  professorship  is  so  different  from  that  of  the 
American  that  a  system  which  has  grown  up  naturally 
here  is  more  likely  to  be  effective  than  one  borrowed  from 
across  the  Atlantic. 

After  all,  does  not  most  of  the  difficulty  arise  from 
two  intellectual  confusions,  first  between  government 
and  administration,  and  second  between  constructive  ad- 
ministration and  routine  administration?  Matthew  Ar- 
nold said  that  he  who  administers  governs,  because  he 
infixes  his  own  mark  and  stamps  his  own  character  upon 
all  affairs  as  they  pass  before  him.  He,  however, 
was  speaking  of  the  British  aristocracy;  and  to-day  it 
looks  as  if  their  administration  were  resulting  less  and 
less  in  their  government  of  the  English  people.  When 
actual  administrative  work  is  done  by  faculty  com- 
mittees, as  is  so  often  the  case  throughout  the  coun- 
try, it  is  performed  usually  inefficiently  and  always 
wastefully.  The  wastefulness  is  the  more  dangerous 
because  it  is  not  at  first  evident.  Indeed,  the  super- 
ficial impression  is  that  money  is  being  saved.  Of  course, 
the  cost  must  really  be  measured  in  what  the  members 
of  the  committee  might  be  doing  with  the  time  and  energy 
which  they  devote  to  tasks  for  which  by  temperament 
and  training  they  are  ordinarily  far  from  being  well 
fitted.  So  far  as  academic  legislation  is  concerned,  ad- 
ministrative people  may  chafe  under  the  formalities  and 
delays  that  precede  faculty  action ;  but  in  our  moments 
of  sanity  we  know  that  such  action  means  building  upon 
a  broader  and  surer  foundation.  At  Columbia  a  definite 
effort  has  been  made  to  keep  these  fundamental  distinc- 
tions clearly  in  mind,  and  generally  speaking  there  is 


THE  BURDEN  OF  PROOF  235 

little  loss  of  power  through  friction  between  the  teaching 
and  administrative  officers. 

It  has  been  said,  I  think  truly,  that  the  university 
president's  power  is  just  what  his  personality  and 
knowledge  make  it.  If  he  can  support  his  views  by 
convincing  reasons,  he  can  get  them  accepted  alike  by 
departments,  faculties,  and  trustees.  If  he  fails  in  this, 
there  is  such  a  thing  as  an  academic  recall,  and  it  is 
not  infrequently  put  into  operation.  The  president 
usually  gets  in  the  not  very  long  run  about  what  he 
deserves.  He  reaps  where  he  did  not  sow,  but  he  reaps 
the  results  of  other  men's  foolish  acts  as  well  as  of  their 
wise  ones.  The  president,  as  one  of  my  colleagues  has 
pointed  out,  is  held  responsible  not  only  for  the  penchant 
for  academic  suicide  which  rages  from  time  to  time  in 
university  circles,  but  also  for  the  inconsiderate  lon- 
gevity of  many  of  those  who  occupy  university  chairs. 
As  President  Low  used  to  say,  his  duties  often  seemed 
to  lie  mainly  in  the  giving  and  receiving  of  pain. 

One  fundamental  advantage  of  centralized  control  not 
always  realized  is  that  progress  is  necessarily  made  by 
concentration  of  emphasis  upon  one  thing  at  a  time, 
a  procedure  almost  impossible  without  such  control. 
It  has  been  pointed  out  that  our  center  of  gravity  lay 
from  1858  to  1880  in  the  College,  from  1880  in  the 
School  of  Political  Science,  and  later  in  the  other 
graduate  schools.  In  1902  it  moved  into  the  College 
of  Physicians  and  Surgeons,  then  again  to  Columbia 
College,  and  it  is  now  swinging  toward  Applied  Science 
and  other  branches  of  vocational  training. 

Once  in  so  often,  also,  any  faculty  will  fall  into  a 
rut,  and  in  nearly  every  case  the  first  move  toward  im- 
provement must  come  from  without.  It  may  vary  in 
vigor  from  a  delicate  suggestion  to  a  definite  exercise 


236  CONCLUSION 

of  authority,  but  in  any  case  it  is  a  kind  of  step  which 
the  colleagues  of  the  offending  men  are  notoriously — and 
quite  naturally — slow  to  take.  Even  among  their  own 
immediate  colleagues,  faculties  are  not  particularly 
likely,  as  experience  has  shown,  to  ensure  efficient  teach- 
ing. Cases  also  might  be  pointed  out  of  intolerance  of 
teachers  to  one  another,  either  within  departments  or  di- 
rected against  academic  newcomers.  Faculties  also  are 
prone  not  only  to  neglect  much  needed  action  in  some 
directions,  but  to  take  hasty  and  ill-considered  steps 
in  others.  In  particular  they  have  a  mania  for  changing 
regulations,  failing  to  realize  that  **  three  moves  are  as 
bad  as  a  fire,"  All  of  which  goes  to  say  that  teachers 
no  less  than  trustees  and  administrators  are  but  human. 

Whether  or  not  the  present  system  of  control  checks 
the  freedom  of  action  of  professors,  it  certainly  does  not 
check  their  freedom  of  speech.  It  has  been  said 
that  there  are  just  two  classes  of  people  in  the  com- 
munity at  the  present  time  who  are  perfectly  free  to 
say  out  loud  what  they  think — tramps  and  university 
professors.  In  the  recent  national  campaign,  all  of  the 
candidates  for  the  presidency,  including  the  socialist, 
had  vehement  and  outspoken  support  from  university 
chairs  at  Columbia. 

Side  by  side  with  those  who  sincerely  believe  that 
trustees  and  president  are  spoiled,  there  are  those  who 
believe  that  professors  are.  These  latter  point  to  the 
fact  that  some  of  the  very  best  work  that  has  been  done 
by  scientists  has  been  done  by  men  not  only  engaged 
in  teaching,  but  literally  overburdened  with  teaching  du- 
ties and  denied  every  suitable  scientific  equipment,  and 
they  ask  whether  the  increase  in  opportunities  that  have 
come  to  the  professor  of  to-day  has  brought  about  a 
corresponding  increase  in  important  output.    More  than 


NEED  FOR  ELASTICITY  237 

one  member  of  a  university  staff  coming  from  profes- 
sional life  has  expressed  surprise  at  the  amount  of  aca- 
demic leisure  appropriated  by  some  of  his  colleagues. 

It  seems  to  me  that  more  important  than  any  one 
scheme  of  organization  is  the  preservation  of  elasticity, 
and  since  1890  Columbia  has  possessed  in  notable  degree 
this  elasticity.  It  is  not  a  bad  thing  for  the  pendulum 
to  swing  first  toward  centralization  and  then  away  from 
it.  One  has  yet  to  find  any  device  in  a  complex  organi- 
zation the  benefits  of  which  are  not  in  greater  or  less 
degree  counterbalanced  by  corresponding  defects. 

The  problems  of  organization  that  arise  are  prob- 
lems of  living  and  growing  matter,  not  of  necrosis.  A 
university  is  more  often  under  fire  for  being  ahead  of 
the  times  than  for  being  behind  them  and,  as  President 
Butler  has  said:  "  We  are  a  result,  in  large  measure, 
of  the  amazing  and  complex  social,  intellectual,  and  eco- 
nomic forces  that  play  upon  us.  We  can  combine;  we 
can  check;  we  can  accelerate,  we  can  assist,  we  can  for- 
ward, we  can  retard ;  but  I  question  very  much  whether 
this  stream  of  academic  progress  could  be  dammed  up 
and  checked  into  a  lake  or  stagnant  pool  by  any 
power. ' ' 

Assuming,  as  one  fairly  may,  that  all  concerned — 
trustees,  president,  and  faculties — ^are  actuated  by  a 
desire  for  the  general  good  rather  than  for  personal 
glory  and  aggrandizement,  it  would  appear  to  be  wiser 
to  endure  the  evils  that  we  have  than  fly  to  others  that 
we  know  not  of.  This  does  not  mean,  however,  that  in- 
dividual steps  should  not  be  taken  along  the  lines  desired 
by  certain  professors.  It  might  be  well,  for  example,  to 
try  the  experiment  of  having  a  certain  proportion  of 
the  trustees  elected  upon  the  nomination  of  the  faculties, 


238  CONCLUSION 

as  a  certain  proportion  is  now  elected  upon  the  nomina- 
tion of  the  alumni.  I  doubt  whether  anything  par- 
ticulq,r  would  happen,  except  that  the  minds  of  some 
of  our  colleagues  would  be  eased.  It  would  be  well  also 
to  develop  some  organic  relationship  between  the  de- 
partments and  the  trustees  through  the  University- 
Council,  a  link  that  is  now  lacking  in  our  system.  This 
would  bring  the  men  who  do  not  sit  in  any  faculty  closer 
to  the  center  of  things. 

Happiness  and  content  on  the  part  of  the  teaching 
staff  are  surely  factors  of  the  greatest  importance  in  the 
welfare  of  the  University.  The  teachers  with  the  adult 
members  of  their  families  make  a  community  of  nearly 
two  thousand  souls,  and,  whether  it  is  advisable  to  do 
anything  to  change  the  present  constitutional  system, 
there  is  no  doubt  that  certain  social  developments  are 
needed.  The  Faculty  Club  is  to-day  one  of  the  great 
powers  in  the  institution,  and  the  women  have  recently 
organized  a  similar  club  of  their  own.  The  President's 
House  is  doing  much  as  a  general  social  center.  Further 
social  opportunities  for  the  men  and  women  of  the  com- 
munity are,  however,  needed,  notably  a  faculty  apart- 
ment house. 

If  one  may  judge  by  the  experience  of  other  institu- 
tions, one  factor  in  the  organization  of  Columbia  Uni- 
versity likely  to  become  more  and  more  prominent  is 
that  of  alumni  control.  This  is  in  many  cases  not  con- 
stitutional, but  it  is  none  the  less  real.  No  one  can  over- 
estimate the  value  of  alumni  loyalty  and  interest,  but 
these  do  not  come  without  bringing  problems  with  them. 
Even  the  eminently  desirable  activities  of  alumni  in 
bringing  students  to  their  own  Alma  Mater  is  in  many 
cases  not  to  the  interest  of  the  boy  or  the  college.  The 
whole  business  of  the  stimulation  of  student  attendance 


ALUMNI  INFLUENCE  239 

is,  as  President  Pritehett  has  teen  the  first  to  point 
out,  now  being  overdone.  There  is  not  as  yet  sufficient 
emphasis  on  the  point  of  view  which  regards  collegiate 
or  professional  training  coldly  and  deliberately  as  an 
investment  on  the  part  of  the  student.  As  some  of  our 
sister  institutions  have  found  out,  there  is  a  real  dan- 
ger of  over-emphasis  by  the  alumni  on  college  life,  and 
particularly  conventionalized  college  life,  and  an  unwill- 
ingness to  let  students  and  teachers  work  out  their  own 
salvation.     The  Quarterly  a  few  years  ago  referred  to 


**  what  Lowell  might  have  called  a  certain  condescen- 
sion in  alumni — particularly  in  the  assumption  that  the 
university  administration,  as  such,  is  in  some  way  in- 
capacitated from  appreciating  the  value  of  the  extra- 
curricular factors  in  the  training  of  its  students.  There 
is  no  question  that  the  university  needs  and  will  always 
welcome  alumni  criticism,  be  it  favorable  or  otherwise, 
and  perhaps  we  are  rushing  unwisely  to  its  defense ;  but 
it  seems  to  us  that  the  judgments  of  alumni  with  regard 
to  their  alma  mater  would  be  of  even  greater  value  than 
they  are  at  present,  if  the  attitude  of  the  alumni  were 
always  to  reflect  an  appreciation  of  the  following  two 
factors.  The  first  is  that,  after  all,  alumni  do  not  cease 
to  be  alumni  when  they  return  to  their  alma  mater  as 
officers.  More  than  a  quarter  of  our  professors  were 
undergraduates  at  Columbia,  many  of  them  men  whose 
contributions  to  the  extra-curricular  educational  factors 
were  not  inconsiderable.  .  .  .  The  second  thing  is  that 
the  university  must  of  necessity  insist  that  its  first  busi- 
ness is  the  efficient  carrying  out  of  its  programs  of 
study.  The  other  things  are  important,  and  no  one 
realizes  this  better  than  the  university,  but  they  simply 
could  not  exist  at  all  except  as  adjuncts  to  a  central 
unit  of  academic  work.  In  the  questions  that  are  con- 
stantly arising  as  to  the  wisest  adjustment  between  this 
central  unit  and  other  student  interests,  the  university 
officers  may  sometimes  err  on  the  side  of  over-apprecia- 


240  CONCLUSION 

tion  of  the  academic  aspect  of  things,  but,  after  all, 
they  may  be  counted  upon  to  approach  these  problems 
with  the  broadest  interests  of  the  university,  as  they 
conceive  them,  at  heart,  and  with  no  inconsiderable 
knowledge  of  both  sides  of  the  question.  It  has  been 
the  experience  of  practically  every  institution  that  deci- 
sions which  at  first  seemed  to  the  most  loyal  of  alumni 
to  be  serious  errors  have,  in  the  fullness  of  time,  come 
to  be  recognized  as  wise  and  far-seeing  advances." 

Let  us  now  consider  the  conditions  in  its  present  offering 
which  might  limit  the  continued  progress  of  the  insti- 
tution. An  essential  element  in  the  development  of  a 
great  university  is  the  interrelation  of  its  several  parts, 
one  to  another.  Columbia  is  fortunate  in  being  un- 
usually well  balanced,  both  in  her  covering  of  the  vari- 
ous fields  of  knowledge  and  of  her  relative  strength  in 
each.  The  statistics  of  American  universities  show  that, 
although  Columbia  is  by  far  the  largest  in  total  num- 
bers, she  is  the  largest  in  only  two  particular  schools. 
Teachers  College,  indeed,  due  to  its  comparatively  new 
and  unoccupied  field,  and  to  the  forehandedness  of  its 
administration,  has  tended  to  grow  out  of  proportion 
to  other  parts,  but  the  rivalry  of  the  State  universities 
in  the  field  of  education  and  its  own  limitations  of  space 
are  likely  to  make  this  condition  a  temporary  one. 

There  are,  however,  certain  definite  gaps  in  the  offer- 
ing of  the  University,  and,  as  the  dyspeptic  said  about 
the  digestive  juices,  the  most  important  components  are 
those  which  are  not  secreted  in  sufficient  quantities.  The 
Faculty  of  Pure  Science  has  recently  been  shot  to  pieces 
by  calls  to  presidencies  and  other  causes  and  has  not  yet 
resumed  its  normal  strength.  Funds  are  needed  for 
research  in  various  fields.  Geography  needs  more  at- 
tention, and  Japanese  and  Russian  are  at  present  wholly 
neglected.    No  one  realizes  better  than  our  medical  fae- 


GAPS  IN  PRESENT  OFFERING  241 

ulty  that  at  present  the  doctor  from  the  small  city  or 
the  country  is  more  likely  to  go  to  Chicago,  Baltimore, 
Boston,  or  St.  Louis — to  say  nothing  of  Rochester,  Min- 
nesota— than  to  New  York  for  opportunities  for  profes- 
sional inspiration  and  enlightenment.  It  is,  therefore, 
unlikely  that  the  present  relative  weakness  in  facilities 
for  post-graduate  medical  training  is  likely  to  be  per- 
manent. 

Columbia's  most  fundamental  lacks,  however,  are  in 
the  field  of  Fine  Arts  and  in  the  support  of  the  Library. 
The  organization  of  the  different  elements  now  here, 
and  the  addition  of  others  to  make  a  real  school  of 
fine  arts,  has  been  under  discussion  for  more  than  a 
decade,  but  the  problem  has  not  yet  been  satisfactorily 
solved.  The  scheme  of  co-operation  with  the  National 
Academy  of  Design  in  1905  proved  abortive,  and  to-day 
Columbia  makes  no  pretense,  in  spite  of  excellent  work 
by  a  few  individuals,  to  represent  adequately  the  art 
element  in  life  and  in  civilization.  It  must  be  remem- 
bered that  as  yet  we  have  no  traditions  of  art  in  this 
country.  Our  Puritan  forefathers  came  here  believing 
that  they  had  left  art  behind  as  one  of  the  luxuries  that 
were  to  be  condemned,  but,  as  Professor  Robinson  has 
pointed  out,  art  is  not  to  be  regarded  as  one  of  the 
luxuries  of  life,  and  it  has  never  been  so  regarded  among 
the  people  among  whom  it  has  flourished.  Weakness  on 
the  aesthetic  side  is  indeed  common  to  all  American 
universities,  and  the  first  to  remedy  the  defect  will  be 
taking  a  step  of  great  importance. 

During  the  past  twenty-five  years  the  sums  appro- 
priated to  the  care  of  buildings  and  grounds  (not  for 
construction)  have  increased  more  than  twice  as  rapidly 
as  have  those  for  the  library.  As  a  result,  in  spite  of 
its  half -million  volumes  and  in  spite  of  many  books  of 


242  CONCLUSION 

particular  interest  and  of  special  collections  dealing  with 
definite  topics,  the  library  as  a  whole  is  not  one  of  the 
strongest  features  of  the  University's  equipment  and 
there  is  nowhere  that  the  trustees  would  more  gladly  wel- 
come an  endowment  than  for  the  purchase  of  needed  books. 

A  related  weakness  is  the  absence  of  facilities  for 
scholarly  publication.  The  example  of  Chicago  and  more 
recently  of  Yale  and  Princeton,  to  say  nothing  of  what 
our  own  University  Press  has  done  under  its  present 
handicaps,  should  call  attention  to  what  might  be  accom- 
plished by  this  Press  if  it  were  adequately  manned  and 
handsomely  endowed. 

In  certain  fields,  where  Columbia  now  stands  hesi- 
tatingly and  ineffectually,  she  should  either  go  forward 
vigorously,  if  this  can  be  done  without  undue  cost  to 
her  more  firmly  established  interests,  or  she  should  with- 
draw. Such  fields  are  landscape  architecture,  agricul- 
ture, and  forestry.  We  have  gone  a  little  further  in 
public  hygiene  and  preventive  medicine,  but  not  far 
enough.  The  strangest  fact  is  that,  in  the  greatest  com- 
mercial center  of  the  new  world,  no  proper  provision 
has  been  made  by  its  largest  university  for  commercial 
education.  Threescore  years  ago  President  King 
strongly  urged  the  establishment  of  a  school  of  com- 
merce. One  was  announced  in  1899,  to  be  conducted 
in  co-operation  with  the  New  York  Chamber  of  Com- 
merce, but  to-day  work  in  this  field,  which  is  growing 
hourly  in  importance  and  significance,  is  confined  to 
extension  classes. 

Columbia  moved  to  its  present  site  with  the  fal- 
lacious expectation  that  it  would  there  have  elbow-room 
for  many  years  to  come.  Less  than  ten  years  ago  it  was 
possible  to  take  a  photograph  from  the  northwest  which 


RESTRICTED  SPACE  AND  NUMBERS     243 

showed  every  one  of  the  University  buildings  at  Mom- 
ingside.  Owing  both  to  the  development  of  the  sur- 
rounding property  in  the  erection  of  large  apartment 
houses  and  the  growth  of  the  University  itself,  such 
a  picture  could  to-day  be  taken  only  from  an  aeroplane. 
This  hemming  in  on  all  sides  of  the  University  is  likely 
to  be  an  important  factor  in  the  future  limitation  of  its 
students.  This  is  particularly  true  since  certain  addi- 
tional buildings  are  still  urgently  needed.  Playgrounds 
and  a  stadium  may  be  provided  elsewhere,  but  dining 
halls  and  other  buildings  for  students  and  larger  assem- 
bly rooms  must  come  upon  the  present  site.  Something 
of  course  might  be  accomplished  by  an  even  more  in- 
tensive use  of  the  present  buildings.  Teachers  College 
increased  the  use  of  the  Household  Arts  buildings  fifty 
per  cent,  by  an  ingenious  rearrangement  of  its  schedule. 

It  is  true  also  that  certain  parts  of  our  work  might 
be  moved  to  other  situations  in  the  city  or  elsewhere, 
but  the  results  of  having  the  Medical  School  three  miles 
away,  and  the  very  moderate  success  of  the  experimental 
extension  classes  in  Brooklyn,  Newark,  and  other  cen- 
ters, do  not  indicate  the  desirability  of  further  decen- 
tralization. 

Other  factors  than  the  limitation  of  area  will  com- 
bine with  it  in  making  the  problem  of  limitation  in  num- 
bers an  ever-present  one.  The  recent  growth  of  uni- 
versities, and  especially  universities  located  in  large 
cities,  is,  as  Professor  Calvin  Thomas  has  pointed  out, 
a  world-wide  phenomenon  due  in  part  to  complex 
social  and  economic  causes  which  are  beyond  our  con- 
trol or  direction.  Perhaps  the  greatest  single  factor  is 
the  constantly  broadening  foundation  caused  by  the  rap- 
idly increasing  numbers  of  those  who  graduate  from  the 
public  high  schools. 


244  CONCLUSION 

It  should  not  be  impossible  to  solve  in  part  the 
problem  of  limitation  of  numbers,  if  each  separate  unit 
of  organization  could  find  some  way  to  pick  out  those 
best  worth  training.  Particularly  in  the  professional 
schools,  furthermore,  one  may  count  upon  sudden  and 
often  inexplicable  reduction  in  the  numbers  of  those 
desiring  to  enter  any  particular  calling.  This  has  al- 
ready happened  in  medicine,  which  like  law  is  in  a  meas- 
ure engaged  in  attempting  to  remove  the  reasons  for 
its  existence,  and  it  is  now  operating  in  various 
branches  of  engineering.  Indeed,  the  percentage 
of  growth  in  the  entire  institution  from  1912  to  1913 
was  only  six  and  one-half  per  cent.,  a  much  lower  rate 
than  that  of  the  University  of  California,  for  example, 
which  would  indicate  that  our  period  of  very  rapid  in- 
crease has  come  to  a  close,  and  that,  so  far  as  the  present 
offering  is  concerned,  Columbia's  position  as  the  most 
largely  attended  university  is  likely  to  be  but  tempo- 
rary. Contrary  to  the  general  belief,  this  would  be 
welcomed  as  a  relief  rather  than  deplored  as  a  disaster. 

The  real  difficulty  will  lie  in  the  limiting  the  number 
of  units ;  for,  even  if  some  of  the  particular  fields  men- 
tioned above  are  abandoned,  others  are  sure  to  arise  and 
demand  academic  recognition.  Dean  Russell  has  pointed 
out  that  any  vocation  with  intellectual  possibili- 
ties in  which  specialized  knowledge  is  rationally, 
ethically,  and  skillfully  applied  in  practical  af- 
fairs, becomes  ipso  facto  a  profession.  Some  of  these 
new  professions  can  now  be  seen  actually  in  the  making, 
as,  for  example,  that  of  the  specialist  in  governmental 
administration.  Many  of  these  new  fields  would  indeed 
involve  little  or  no  extra  expense,  but  merely  a  regroup- 
ing of  existing  facilities.  It  has  been  suggested,  for 
example,  that  Columbia  might  wisely  follow  the  exam- 


FINANCIAL  SUPPORT  AND  REQUIREMENTS   245 

pie  of  London  University  and  establish  a  laboratory 
of  eugenics,  through  the  combined  force  of  its  biological, 
medical,  and  sociological  departments,  and  the  co-opera- 
tion of  its  theological  allies.  While  up  to  a  certain  limit 
a  university  is  blessed  in  so  far  as  it  sows  beside  all 
waters,  there  exists  a  real  danger  lest  an  institution 
should  spread  itself  so  thin  as  to  become  a  polytech- 
nicum  rather  than  a  university,  a  change  which  would 
affect  not  only  the  institution  as  a  whole,  but  its  every 
part.  The  solution  would  seem  to  lie  in  a  dividing  up 
of  the  field  by  agreement  among  different  institutions, 
local  and  national,  a  matter  to  which  reference  will  be 
made  further  on. 

The  time  will  surely  come  when  the  question  of  re- 
moving certain  existing  parts  will  come  up  and  the  pro- 
posal to  cut  out  the  undergraduate  colleges  will  undoubt- 
edly be  among  the  first  to  arise.  The  undergraduate 
college,  however,  is  the  most  characteristic  feature  of 
our  American  system  of  education.  It  has,  particularly 
in  institutions  like  Columbia,  a  vital  function  in  tying 
the  whole  institution  together  in  many  ways  already 
pointed  out,  and  vigorous  and  enthusiastic  youth  has 
its  lessons  to  give  as  well  as  to  learn.  The  honors 
courses  seem  to  furnish  a  clew  to  the  possibility  of  main- 
taining in  a  university,  no  matter  how  large  and  over- 
crowded, a  place  for  earnest  undergraduates,  not  grinds, 
but  boys  with  red  blood,  of  real  intellectual  curiosity  and 
promise. 

What  can  one  foretell  as  to  the  financial  support  of 
an  institution  like  Columbia  ?  Professor  Munroe  Smith 
has  pointed  out  that  ' '  what  the  rich  men  of  the  country 
hold,  they  have  and  hold  by  the  aid  of  the  university 
teachers  of  the  natural  and  social  sciences.    These  ask 


246  CONCLUSION 

nothing  for  themselves  but  the  opportunity  to  serve  the 
country  and  the  world  in  serving  science.  They  desire 
no  retaining  fee  to  induce  them  to  tell  the  truth  as  God 
gives  them  to  see  the  truth.  But  they  feel  that  every  rich 
man  owes  his  tithe  to  science,  and  that  this  tithe  should 
be  paid  to  the  temple  of  science,  the  university."  Will 
Columbia  continue  to  get  its  present  share  of  these 
contributions  ? 

Its  support  has  come  in  the  past  primarily  from  the 
citizens  of  New  York,  as  has  been  already  shown.  Thus 
far  experience  has  confirmed  Mr.  Low's  statement  of 
twenty  years  ago  that  he  esteemed  it  a  part  of  the 
good  fortune  of  both  city  and  university  that  the  time 
has  come  when  Columbia  must  be  a  constant,  importu- 
nate, and  successful  beggar.  It  must  not  be  forgotten, 
however,  that  the  additions  to  our  prosperity  thus  far 
have  in  many  cases  been  of  such  a  character  as  to  increase 
expenditure  far  more  than  to  increase  income  and  that 
our  endowment  is  very  unevenly  distributed.  Upon  this 
subject  President  Butler  has  said : 

"  The  ethics  of  academic  giving  is  as  yet  an  unex- 
plored field.  It  offers  many  and  inviting  problems  to 
the  student  of  morals  and  of  public  policy.  It  would 
be  very  easy,  by  the  exercise  of  ordinary  business  judg- 
ment, to  make  the  millions  now  given  each  year  for 
education  in  the  United  States  many  times  as  pro- 
ductive as  they  are.  New  and  unnecessary  institutions 
are  established  out  of  the  vanity  of  one  man  or  the 
ambition  of  another,  when  the  money  to  be  devoted  to 
their  establishment  would  be  at  least  twice  as  productive 
if  put  into  hands  already  tested  and  experienced  and 
added  to  the  resources  of  some  well-established  institu- 
tion of  the  higher  learning.  Funds  given  for  specia? 
purposes  would  almost  always  be  more  wisely  spent  if 
given  to  promote  the  general  ends  for  which  a  uni- 
versity, a  library,  a  museum,  or  a  hospital  exists.    But 


FINANCIAL  SUPPORT  AND  REQUIREMENTS   247 

it  takes  men  and  women  of  large  vision  and  broad  sym- 
pathy to  see  this. ' ' 

The  recent  grants  from  the  General  Education  Board 
and  the  Carnegie  Foundation,  made  to  the  Johns 
Hopkins  and  Vanderbilt  Universities  respectively,  en- 
courage one  to  feel  that  Columbia  and  other  urban  uni- 
versities, with  their  knowledge  of  the  public  need  and 
the  skill  in  meeting  it  which  has  come  with  long  years  of 
experience,  may  receive  as  time  goes  on  greater  oppor- 
tunities to  co-operate  with  organizations  of  this  char- 
acter, as  well  as  with  individual  donors,  in  the  effective 
use  of  funds  devoted  to  the  public  welfare. 

One  financial  factor  has  been  clearly  set  forth  as  to 
Teachers  College  by  Dean  Russell  in  a  recent  report, 
which  applies  with  practically  equal  force  to  every  other 
part  of  any  ambitious  institution :  "  If  we  maintain  the 
standing  of  our  instruction,  expenditures  are  bound  to 
increase  automatically,  because  so  many  of  our  staff  are 
still  young  in  point  of  service  and  rightfully  expect  an 
annual  increase  in  their  salaries.  The  development  of 
our  field  and  the  growth  of  other  schools  force  us  to 
keep  our  work  to  the  front,  and  that  tends  annually  to 
increase  the  cost  of  maintenance.  Instead  of  larger 
classes  and  fewer  professors,  we  must  have  smaller  classes 
and  more  professors." 

In  spite  of  strong  probabilities  of  continuous  support, 
Columbia  must  nevertheless  be  seriously  upon  its  guard 
against  over-development.  We  must  bear  in  mind  also 
the  rapidly  increasing  support  and  wealth  of  the  State 
universities.  Another  factor  is  the  organization  of  sepa- 
rate institutions  for  research,  and  still  another  the  ever- 
present  possibility  of  the  establishment  of  a  national 
university  in  the  city  of  Washington.  To  borrow  a 
phrase  from  modern  business,  Columbia  must  always 


248  CONCLUSION 

have  a  care  lest  some  development  in  the  educational 
situation  over  which  she  herself  can  have  no  control 
should  find  her  **  over-extended." 

In  the  old  days  Columbia's  points  of  contact  with 
the  outside  world,  even  the  outside  academic  world, 
were  very  few.  Before  the  new  blood  called  to  the  insti- 
tution as  a  result  of  the  1857  Report,  one  must,  I  think, 
go  back  nearly  a  century  to  Myles  Cooper  to  find  a  man 
specifically  called  to  New  York  to  take  a  position  in  the 
institution,  and  from  1857  on  but  few  were  called  until 
Mr.  Low's  time.  To-day,  of  course,  there  is  a  constant 
interchange  of  individuals,  perhaps  most  notably  and 
,  significantly  for  us  in  the  summer  session.  Our  rela- 
tions with  other  institutions  would  be  greatly  strength- 
ened, however,  by  an  adequate  appointments  office  which 
would  not  only  put  our  younger  men  in  positions  of 
strategic  importance  but  keep  us  informed  as  to  what 
those  already  placed  were  doing  and  learning  elsewhere. 

Columbia  has  never  attempted  to  dominate  or  patron- 
ize nearby  institutions.  Indeed,  for  most  of  her  history 
she  has  not  been  in  a  position  to  do  so.  She  has  been 
successively  outstripped  in  numbers  by  New  York  Uni- 
versity, Union,  and  Cornell.  In  view  of  the  vigorous 
existence  of  these,  and  of  Syracuse  University,  Colum- 
bia has  grown  from  a  local  to  a  national  institution  with- 
out the  intermediate  stage  of  State  leadership. 

Columbia's  different  systems  of  exchange  professor- 
ships have  strengthened  the  ties  not  only  with  foreign  in- 
stitutions, but  with  local  ones  as  well,  for  of  the  Roose- 
velt professors  thus  far  appointed  more  than  half  of 
those  nominated  by  Columbia  have  come  from  Yale, 
California,  Virginia,  Wisconsin,  and  Chicago.  We  are 
however  too  prone  to  forget  that  Columbia,  though  rela- 


ACADEMIC  CO-OPERATION  249 

tively  venerable  among  North  American  institutions, 
is  just  two  centuries  the  junior  of  the  University  at 
Lima.  In  contrast  to  the  progress  of  the  University  of 
Pennsylvania  in  this  matter,  the  whole  field  of  relation- 
ship with  South  America  has  thus  far  been  neglected. 

Among  the  advances  for  the  future  in  American 
higher  education  would  seem  to  be  a  clearer  realization 
that  co-operation  is  wiser  than  rivalry,  and  that  more 
conscious  and  deliberate  tying  together  of  its  different 
elements  is  desirable.  That  universities  should  con- 
sciously work  together  is  important,  both  in  order  to 
avoid  waste  and  duplication  of  efforts  and  funds,  par- 
ticularly in  fields  appealing  to  comparatively  few  stu- 
dents, and  also  as  an  antidote  for  that  deadening  pro- 
vincialism which  develops  and  flourishes  in  places  where 
one  would  least  expect  to  find  it.  Although  the  Yale- 
Columbia  scheme  for  co-operation  in  foreign  service  fell 
through,  this  furnishes  no  reason  why  other  attempts 
should  not  be  made.  A  specific  field  lies  in  the  exten- 
sion of  the  principle  of  the  combined  college  and  profes- 
sional course  so  as  to  include  the  small  independent  col- 
lege, which  is  at  present  seriously  penalized  in  this  regard. 

There  is  now  in  existence  an  association  of  American 
universities  and  a  similar  association  of  the  State  insti- 
tutions, but  their  influence  thus  far  has  been  disap- 
pointing. Indeed,  more  has  been  accomplished  by  meet- 
ings of  men  as  individuals  in  learned  societies,  and  in 
such  bodies  as  the  College  Entrance  Examination  Board. 

Perhaps  the  line  of  progress  toward  closer  relations 
among  our  American  institutions  will  be  found  in  indi- 
vidual acts  of  consideration.  As  early  as  the  Park  Place 
days,  Columbia  threw  open  her  doors  to  the  struggling 
College  of  Pharmacy  and  offered  facilities  in  certain 
fields  to  the  students  of  Annapolis,  an  invitation  only 


250  CONCLUSION 

just  accepted  for  the  current  year,  when  eighteen  gradu- 
ates of  the  Naval  Academy  are  studying  in  our  engi- 
neering laboratories.  She  has  made  welcome  presents 
of  books  to  Virginia,  William  and  Mary,  and  Toronto, 
when  the  libraries  of  these  institutions  had  been  de- 
stroyed by  fire,  and  during  the  typhoid  epidemic  at  Cor- 
nell, a  few  years  ago,  our  classrooms  and  dormitories 
were  thrown  open  to  the  students  of  that  institution. 

More  might  be  done  also  to  encourage  co-operative 
work  among  students  by  schemes  like  the  joint  summer 
school  of  mining  practice,  tried  a  few  years  ago,  and 
the  present  inter-university  competitions  in  architecture. 
The  example  of  the  German  universities  has  led  to  at- 
tempts to  stimulate  migration  among  graduate  students, 
but  thus  far  these  attempts  have  been  neither  vigorous 
enough  nor  intelligent  enough  to  produce  important 
results — which  is  unfortunate,  for  it  is  easier  and  less 
expensive  to  move  individual  students  than  to  move  the 
professors  with  their  books  and  laboratories. 

What  are  to  be  the  relations  of  the  University  with 
the  non-academic  world?  The  liberal  arts  had  their 
origin  in  the  sharp  antithesis  between  the  life  of  leisure 
and  the  sordid  duties  of  the  slave,  and  even  in  Matthew 
Arnold's  day  the  university  was  regarded  as  the  home 
of  lost  causes  and  forsaken  beliefs  and  unpopular  men 
and  impossible  loyalties.  It  is,  however,  no  longer  re- 
garded as  necessary  or  desirable  to  keep  our  universi- 
ties unspotted  from  the  world.  Intelligence,  to  quote 
Professor  Woodbridge,  is  not  given  to  man  to  be  hidden 
away  like  the  talent  in  the  napkin,  in  fear  lest  it 
be  soiled  by  the  increment  its  exercise  would  earn  from 
a  material  world,  and  instead  of  shunning,  as  Arnold 
advised,  the  crudity  and  grossness  of  utilitarianism,  the 


OTHER  RELATIONS  251 

universities  are  important  factors  in  establishing  a  new 
and  higher  utilitarianism  or,  as  it  is  called  at  "Wisconsin, 
a  utilitarian  idealism. 

From  the  other  side,  the  world  without  has  for  some 
years  looked  upon  the  university  in  a  new  light,  and  one 
college  professor  leaving  the  White  House  as  another  en- 
ters it  is  not  to-day  the  extraordinary  phenomenon  it 
would  have  been  a  generation  ago.  It  is  signifi- 
cant that  the  university  is  being  constantly  se- 
lected by  organizations  and  individuals  having 
no  personal  or  official  relations  with  it  as  a  means  of 
perpetuating  the  names  of  public  servants  like  Waring, 
Curtis,  and  Gilder,  and  that  funds  are  being  volunteered 
to  it  for  such  purposes  as  research  in  advertising  and  in 
road-making.  It  is  characteristic,  too,  that  Joseph 
Pulitzer  turned  to  a  university  to  administer  the  striking 
series  of  prizes,  amounting  to  about  twenty  thousand 
dollars  annually,  for  meritorious  work  in  various  fields 
of  practical  endeavor,  for  which  he  made  provision  in 
his  will.  Society,  too,  is  now  calling  on  its  own  initiative 
for  training  in  new  professions  and  vocations,  instead 
of  having  it  imposed  from  above.  All  in  all,  there 
is  no  country  except  perhaps  Scotland  where  the  uni- 
versities come  so  close  to  the  people  as  in  America. 
A  writer  of  the  distinction  of  Arnold  Bennett  has 
never  seen  the  inside  of  an  English  university.  We  can 
hardly  believe  that  an  American  of  the  same  caliber 
would  not  inevitably  have  come  under  the  influence  of 
one  or  another  of  ours.  The  danger  with  us,  indeed,  is 
not  so  much  of  aloofness  and  arrogance  as  that  the 
universities  may  forget  their  function  of  leadership.  It 
has  been  cynically  pointed  out  that  modern  journalism  is 
an  example  of  giving  the  people  exactly  what  they  want. 
I  think  it  was  von  Hoist  who  said  that  the  preachers 


252  CONCLUSION 

of  the  doctrine  that  a  good  average  is  all  that  a  plain 
democracy  needs  are  the  worst  enemies  of  democracy. 

No  argument  is  needed  to  prove  the  desirability  of 
the  closest  relations  between  the  urban  university  and 
the  city  of  its  home.  Columbia  is  what  New  York  has 
made  it,  and  what  she  will  be  depends  more  than  upon 
any  other  single  factor  upon  her  future  relations  with 
the  city.  Dr.  Slosson  has  said  that  the  University  of 
Chicago  might  be  anywhere,  but  Columbia,  body  and 
soul,  is  so  thoroughly  characteristic  of  New  York  City 
as  to  be  quite  inconceivable  elsewhere.  Its  relations 
and  inter-relations  with  the  city  are  more  like  those  of 
the  Sorbonne  in  Paris  than  those  between  any  other  uni- 
versity and  city.  It  has  already  achieved  in  large  part 
the  ideal  relationship  which  the  Royal  Commission  is 
trying  to  accomplish  for  London  University. 

At  the  dedication  of  the  site  in  1896,  Abram  S. 
Hewitt,  one  of  eight  mayors  Columbia  has  furnished 
to  New  York  City,  said:  "  Let  it  be  remembered  that 
we  are  here  not  to  dedicate  the  building  alone,  but  also 
to  dedicate  the  responsibilities  and  duties  of  advancing 
civilization,  the  wealth,  the  energy,  and  potentialities 
of  millions  of  men  who  will,  in  the  ages  to  come,  con- 
stitute the  population  gathered  around  this  center  of 
light  and  learning."  The  advantages  which  the  Uni- 
versity may  draw  from  its  position  in  the  city  were 
never  better  summarized  than  in  an  editorial  in  the  New 
York  World  twenty  years  ago,  written  to  urge  the  city 
to  furnish  the  funds  which  Columbia  needed  to  estab- 
lish itself  in  its  new  home : 

**  A  great  city  like  New  York,  and  New  York  more 
than  most  great  cities,  holds  educational  possibilities 


LOCAL  TIES  253 

which  can  be  had  nowhere  else,  and  which  can  only  be 
turned  to  account  by  a  great  university.  As  the  center 
of  the  nation's  activities — industrial,  financial,  and  in- 
tellectual— New  York  has  drawn  to  herself  the  very 
strongest  men  and  the  most  conspicuous  illustrative  ex- 
amples in  every  department  of  endeavor. 

*  *  The  great  hospitals  are  here,  and  the  great  surgeons 
are  in  attendance  upon  them.  Our  law  courts  deal  with 
the  largest  and  most  complex  questions.  The  student 
of  economics  has  here  the  commerce  and  the  finance  of 
the  world  to  study.  The  lecturer  upon  engineering  or 
architecture  has  here  the  best  illustrative  examples  with 
which  to  make  his  teaching  effective.  The  student  of 
literature  studies  in  the  midst  of  the  creative  literary 
activity  of  the  continent,  and,  with  his  fellows,  the 
students  of  history,  philology,  or  what  not,  has  access 
to  some  of  the  noblest  reference  libraries  in  the  world. 
Here  the  arts  of  music  and  the  drama  have  their  best 
exemplification.  Here  are  museums  and  galleries  of  the 
first  order." 

Twenty  years  have  brought  even  greater  opportuni- 
ties. No  other  university  center  offers  such  a  variety 
of  phenomena,  such  diversity  of  interests  and  such  views 
of  social  organization  and  progress.  Recent  statistics 
show  a  collection  of  books  in  New  York,  Brooklyn,  and 
Newark  of  more  than  five  and  one-half  million  volumes, 
to  say  nothing  of  the  extraordinary  private  collections, 
and  of  the  fact  that  New  York  is  now  one  of  the  great 
book  marts  of  the  world.  It  is  also  one  of  the  greatest 
engineering  centers  and  the  building  of  the  allied  so- 
cieties is  the  headquarters  of  fifty  thousand  engineers. 
The  city  has  become  a  veritable  museum  of  architecture 
and,  what  is  more  important,  its  practicing  architects 
are  showing  the  greatest  interest  in  training  for  their 
profession.    But  it  is  needless  to  go  into  further  details. 

What  the  University  owes  to  the  city  financially,  both 
directly  and  by  the  increased  value  of  its  real  estate, 


254  CONCLUSION 

has  been  reiterated,  doubtless  to  the  point  of  tediousness, 
throughout  these  pages.  Its  growth  in  numbers  is  per- 
haps primarily  due  to  the  growth  of  the  city,  both  in 
furnishing  a  local  supply  upon  which  to  draw  and  be- 
cause it  is  becoming  more  and  more  generally  recog- 
nized to-day  by  those  outside  it  that  the  great  city  itself 
gives  a  view  of  life  that  is  no  small  part  of  a  student's 
education. 

With  these  advantages  come  corresponding  responsi- 
bilities on  the  part  of  the  institution.  The  first  of  these 
is  that  the  latter  must  be  where  the  city  can  get  at  it. 
As  early  as  1770  the  American  Farmer,  in  his  famous 
Letters,  regretted  "  that  the  new  Academy  had  not 
been  erected  far  away  from  the  city,  in  some  rural  re- 
treat, where  the  scholars  had  been  far  removed  from 
the  tumults  of  business  and  the  dissipations  and  pleas- 
ures that  are  so  numerous  in  large  cities."  The  ques- 
tion of  becoming  by  removal  to  the  country  a  daughter 
of  Mary,  to  adapt  Kipling's  figure,  rather  than  a  daugh- 
ter of  Martha,  came  up  again  and  again,  perhaps  most 
acutely  at  the  time  of  removal  from  Forty-ninth  Street, 
but  Mr.  Low  then  reminded  the  trustees  that  Colum- 
bia had  a  distinct  duty,  historical  and  sentimental,  for 
those  who  do  not  want  to  go  from  the  city  for  their 
education,  or  who  are  unable  to  do  so.  Humanly  speak- 
ing, the  development  of  the  present  site  has  permanently 
settled  the  matter. 

In  other  ways  the  University  is  doing  what  it  can  to 
repay  its  obligations.  Its  buildings  have  been  at  the 
disposal  of  the  city  for  scientific  tests,  and  of  the  citi- 
zens as  a  meeting-place  for  any  serious  body  of  persons. 
In  1890,  Mr.  Low  found  that  eighteen  societies  then  used 
the  College  buildings  for  their  meetings,  and  not  many 
years  later  the  total  attendance  upon  such  meetings  in 


RESPONSIBILITIES  255 

University  buildings  had  grown  to  over  sixty  thousand  a 
year.  No  attempt  is  made  to  limit  its  services  to  those 
from  whom  it  receives  pay;  and,  as  has  already  been 
pointed  out,  no  one  pays  the  full  cost  of  what  he  re- 
ceives. The  undergraduate  curriculum  has  been  modi- 
fied to  articulate  with  the  public  school  system  and 
professional  training  has  been  provided  to  meet  specific 
local  needs  as  they  have  arisen.  The  extension  classes 
have  been  maintained  primarily  to  meet  city  needs.  As 
early  as  1895  the  members  of  the  Faculty  of  Political 
Science  debated  in  public  on  the  East  Side  questions  of 
general  interest  to  the  community.  The  teachers  of 
French  and  German  have  for  many  years  been  in  close 
touch  with  the  New  York  citizens  interested  in  these 
literatures.  The  Deutsches  Haus  contains  an  academie 
bureau  of  information,  and  similar  provision  will  doubt- 
less be  made  in  the  Maison  Frangaise.  Columbia  has 
been  instrumental  in  founding,  has  fostered,  and  now 
provides  permanent  homes  for  various  useful  organi- 
zations, notably  the  Academy  of  Political  Science,  the 
American  Mathematical  Society,  and  the  College  En- 
trance Examination  Board.  The  Public  Library  is  re- 
lieved from  purchases  in  certain  fields  through  knowing 
that  these  will  be  looked  after  for  the  city  by  Colum- 
bia. It  has  been  the  policy  of  the  trustees  to  put  the 
scientific  collections  where  they  will  do  the  most  public 
good.  Our  herbarium  is  housed  at  the  Botanical '  Gar- 
dens, certain  of  our  fossils  at  the  Museum  of  Natural 
History,  and  rare  Spanish  books  with  the  Hispanic 
Society. 

All  these  are  but  typical  examples  of  the  desire  of  the 
University  to  pay  its  debt  to  the  community,  but  even 
to  pay  the  interest  on  that  debt  requires  that  new  ways 
must  constantly  be  found  and  developed.     One  way, 


256  CONCLUSION 

which  like  many  another  is  reciprocal  in  its  effect,  is  to 
teach  the  city  and  the  citizens  to  do  even  more  for  it  and 
for  education  in  general.  Every  dollar  that  is  spent 
in  New  York  can  be  made  an  educational  resource,  if 
the  persons  who  spend  it  have  been  properly  trained. 
We  hear  a  great  deal  about  the  education  of  the  poor, 
but  we  must  not  forget  the  education  of  the  rich.  When 
rich  men  build  houses  they  must  be  taught  to  make  them 
architecturally  educative.  When  they  buy  pictures  and 
books  they  must  be  taught  to  have  them  available  for 
people  who  can  profit  by  studying  them.  When  they 
establish  factories  they  must  see  that  these  teach  the  best 
forms  of  industrial  enterprise.  When  they  buy  theaters 
and  newspapers  they  should  do  so  with  a  far  keener  sense 
of  their  public  responsibilities  than  is  generally  the  case 
to-day.  A  man  who  gives  largely  to  any  public  insti- 
tution should  rightly  have  a  good  deal  to  say  as  to  how 
the  money  should  be  spent,  and  he  should  withhold  his 
aid  from  any  institution,  no  matter  how  useful  in  itself — 
church,  hospital,  library,  or  what  you  will — ^lacking  in 
its  duty  in  the  broad  field  of  education. 

At  first  the  only  task  of  universities  was  to  teach; 
with  the  nineteenth  century  came  the  obligations  of  re- 
search, and  with  the  twentieth  the  problems  of  general 
service  to  the  community.  The  first  two  are  of  course 
inherent  in  the  third,  as  they  are  forms  of  public  serv- 
ice of  no  mean  order,  but  as  matters  of  emphasis  these 
may  be  regarded  as  three  separate  functions.  What 
are  the  chances  that  Columbia  will  be  able  to  carry  on 
successfully  this  threefold  obligation? 

Teaching  is  no  longer  regarded  as  the  mere  providing 
of  facts.  To  quote  from  an  editorial  in  the  University 
Quarterly:  **  The  object  of  modem  teaching  is  not  to 


TEACHING  257 

make  votaries,  as  many  people  suppose,  but  to  make 
thinkers.  Probably  the  best  way  to  convert  an  average 
class  to  free  trade  would  be  to  teach  protection  in  a 
dogmatic  spirit."  The  teacher's  aim  is  to  guide  the  stu- 
dent systematically  to  ever-growing  independence  in 
thinking.  Columbia  has  always  had  her  great  teach- 
ers, but  with  her  rapid  growth  the  question  of  insisting 
throughout  upon  skilled  teaching — and  teaching  is  an  art 
— has  until  very  recently  been  rather  neglected.  If  a 
professor  happened  to  be  a  good  teacher,  so  much  the 
better,  but,  if  he  didn't,  no  one  but  the  students  found 
it  out,  and  in  the  professional  and  other  prescribed 
courses  they  had  to  sit  under  him,  whether  or  no.  Some 
of  the  examples  of  thoroughly  bad  teaching  collected  by 
Professor  Pitkin,  when  he  was  preparing  a  plea  for  the 
desirability  of  really  teaching  the  young  instructors  of 
a  university  how  to  teach,  are  enough  to  make  one  shud- 
der. Particularly  in  the  laboratory  sciences,  inexperi- 
enced youngsters  were  put  in  charge  of  large  squads 
in  important  subjects,  and  bad  teaching  of  the  sciences 
is  quite  as  dangerous  educationally  as  bad  teaching 
of  the  classics  or  of  any  other  subject.  Probably  the 
same  difficulty  may  be  faced  with  the  social  sciences 
in  the  future,  but  at  present  the  novelty  of  laboratory 
methods  here  keeps  things  up  to  the  mark. 

President  Butler  has  cried  out  as  to  the  difficulties  of 
making  any  attempt  to  improve  the  teaching  of  men 
already  in  service: 

"  There  is  unfortunately  no  public  opinion,  either 
within  a  university  or  in  the  community  at  large,  which 
will  sustain  the  displacement  of  a  teacher  in  school  or 
in  college  simply  because  he  cannot  teach.  If  he  is  a 
person  of  good  moral  character,  of  reasonable  industry, 
and  of  inoffensive  personality,  his  place  is  perfectly  se- 


258  CONCLUSION 

cure  no  matter  what  havoc  he  may  make  in  the  class- 
room. It  is  this  inequitable  security  of  tenure,  the 
like  of  which  is  not  to  be  found  in  any  other  calling, 
that  attracts  to  the  teaching  profession  and  holds 
in  it,  despite  its  modest  pecuniary  rewards,  so  much 
mediocrity. 

"  This  is  not  so  much  a  condition  to  be  criticised 
as  a  fact  to  be  reckoned  with.  Unless  an  ineffective 
teacher  can  be  roused  or  stimulated  into  relative  ef- 
fectiveness, it  will  probably  be  necessary  to  subject  one 
generation  of  college  students  after  another  to  his  inca- 
pacity until  death  or  the  age  of  academic  retirement 
comes  to  their  relief." 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  in  many  cases  the  trustees  can  and 
do  appoint  a  stronger  man  to  a  chair  in  the  same  field, 
and  in  such  cases  the  students  can  be  counted  upon  to 
do  their  part.  It  has  also  been  seriously  suggested  that 
by  the  adoption  of  some  position  like  that  of  the 
docents  in  the  German  universities  (where  the  junior 
teacher's  income  depends  upon  the  number  of  his  stu- 
dents) the  question  of  stimulating  emphasis  on  teach- 
ing might  be  solved.  The  important  thing,  however, 
is  to  appoint  no  new  men  to  higher  positions,  barring 
geniuses,  unless  they  are  teachers  of  proved  skill  and 
devotion,  and  to  give  the  younger  men  an  opportunity 
to  learn  their  trade,  for  teachers  are  made  as  well  as 
bom.  Their  own  departmental  seniors  can  do  much, 
and  in  some  cases  are  doing  a  great  deal,  but  it  is  not 
to  the  credit  of  the  University  that  thus  far  the  op- 
portunities of  Teachers  College  have  not  been  adequately 
enlisted  in  this  matter. 

In  professional  courses,  Columbia  has  one  great  ad- 
vantage, an  advantage  however  that  needs  careful  watch- 
ing. Ordinarily  it  is  only  in  the  city  that  it  is  possible 
to  get  men  of  eminence  in  the  several  professions  to 


Alma  Mater 


TEACHING  259 

devote  at  least  a  part  of  their  time  to  academic  duties. 
In  certain  fields  this  part-time  service  is  absolutely  nec- 
essary. In  medicine,  for  example,  the  student  is  im- 
properly trained,  if  his  experience  is  limited  to  the  study 
of  the  inflammatory  and  organic  diseases  usually  seen 
in  ward  service.  He  must  learn  from  men  in  general 
practice  about  the  various  functional  disturbances  which 
are  arising  from  the  strains  and  worries  of  the  twentieth 
century.  In  the  past,  however,  too  little  attention  in 
making  these  part-time  appointments  has  been  paid  to 
the  actual  skill  and  interest  of  the  professional  practi- 
tioner in  teaching  itself.  In  a  great  city,  however,  the 
supply  is  practically  unlimited,  and,  if  sufficient  time 
and  care  are  taken,  the  right  man  can  always  be  found. 

"With  the  appointment  of  deans  and  the  establish- 
ment in  each  faculty  of  a  working  committee  on  in- 
struction, the  general  average  of  teaching  has  been  im- 
proved markedly,  both  through  insistence  on  smaller 
sections  and  in  care  as  to  new  appointments.  In  cer- 
tain cases,  too,  as  in  the  undergraduate  honors  courses, 
and  more  recently  in  journalism,  Columbia  has  broken 
away  from  stereotyped  methods.  Much  has  also  been 
done  indirectly  toward  bringing  about  a  general  recog- 
nition in  the  University  that  academic  kudos  in  the  form 
of  promotion  or  otherwise  depends  more  upon  teaching 
service  than  was  formerly  supposed  to  be  the  case.  The 
future  may  very  possibly  show  that  we  are  now  doing 
too  much  teaching  all  along  the  line,  but,  however  that 
may  be,  the  realization  is  coming  that  whatever  teach- 
ing is  done  should  be  of  the  first  order,  and  that  is  the 
important  thing. 

Closely  related  to  teaching  is  the  whole  question  of 
the  stimulation  to  good  work  through  competition.    This 


260  CONCLUSION 

spirit  of  competition  is  already  well  developed  in  the 
professional  schools  through  certain  coveted  positions 
(usually  opportunities  to  do  additional  work)  such  as 
the  Law  Review,  the  prosectorships  and  hospital  interne- 
ships  in  medicine,  and  also  by  the  practical  fact  that 
a  man's  first  appointment,  and  indeed  his  later  profes- 
sional advancement,  depends  in  large  measure  upon  the 
judgment  of  the  faculty  as  to  his  relative  position 
among  his  fellows.  It  is  strong  also  in  Barnard,  and  is 
growing  stronger  in  the  College,  where  last  year  nearly 
a  third  of  the  class  had  records  that  rendered  them 
eligible  to  Phi  Beta  Kappa  election.  It  is  weakest  in 
the  graduate  school,  as  is  the  case  throughout  the  coun- 
try, where  too  many  of  the  students  have  been  spoiled 
by  subsidies,  and  idle  away  their  time  in  the  fond  be- 
lief that  they  are  doing  research,  and  where  too  many 
others  want  a  degree  merely  as  a  sort  of  intellectual 
whitewash. 

The  good  teacher  teaches  far  more  than  his  subject, 
and  can  even  make  some  impression  upon  those  three 
cardinal  weaknesses  of  American  youth — careless  man- 
ners, intolerance,  and  a  lack  of  a  sense  of  responsibility. 
By  suggestion  rather  than  precept  he  can  also  influence 
the  student  to  make  provision  for  the  profitable  em- 
ployment of  his  leisure.  Culture,  as  has  been  pointed 
out,  is  not  a  serum  designed  to  furnish  immunity  for 
the  future.  Success  in  a  business  or  professional  career 
is  a  barren  triumph  if,  when  the  means  and  time  and 
money  to  gratify  a  man's  individual  tastes  have  come, 
he  finds  himself  without  intellectual  or  aesthetic  tastes 
to  gratify — and  many  a  college  student  who  is  to-day 
devoting  all  his  moments  to  the  mastery  of  the  highly 
technical  but  profitless  gossip  and  statistics  of  the  side 
lines  will  come  to  realize  this. 


TEACHING  261 

This  is  the  day  of  emphasis  on  social  consciousness, 
and,  as  a  university  lives  primarily  in  its  graduates, 
one  of  its  primary  teaching  functions,  and  also  one  of  its 
most  important  acts  of  public  service,  is  to  make  each 
alumnus  realize  as  he  goes  out  into  the  world  that  his 
obligations  are  greater  than  his  privileges,  and  more 
important.  What  Columbia  has  already  done  in  this 
way  is  probably  underestimated,  owing  to  the  habit  in 
America  of  giving  all  the  credit  for  a  man's  accomplish- 
ments to  his  first  college.  The  university,  where  he 
goes  afterwards  and  where  he  probably  receives  much 
more  serious  intellectual  stimulus,  is  seldom  considered. 
In  the  past  this  part  of  the  teacher's  influence  was 
largely  unconscious,  or  at  any  rate  unorganized,  except 
on  the  strictly  religious  side,  but  to-day  the  ethical  ele- 
ment in  the  practice  of  law  is  being  emphasized  delib- 
erately, as  is  the  social  responsibility  of  the  engineer 
and  doctor.  The  percentage  of  graduates  of  Columbia 
University  who  enter  the  profession  of  teaching  itself 
is  rapidly  rising.  Indeed,  within  the  six  years  between 
two  recent  general  catalogues  it  rose  from  four  per  cent, 
to  thirty-three  per  cent.,  and  is  doubtless  higher  to-day. 
And  no  subject  touches  life  on  so  many  sides  as  teach- 
ing or,  to  quote  Professor  Dewey,  **  brings  to  itself  such 
a  wealth  of  material  combined  with  such  a  stimulating 
outlook  upon  the  past  and  the  present  of  humanity." 
Not  a  few  of  the  gifts  that  have  come  to  Teachers  Col- 
lege have  come  from  practical  idealists  in  the  world  of 
affairs,  whose  primary  interest  was  in  social  betterment, 
but  who  realized  that  the  surest  step  to  this  end  was 
in  the  better  training  of  teachers. 

In  general,  the  undergraduates  need  little  stimula- 
tion to  interest  themselves  in  social  matters.  Not 
the   least  of  the  reasons  why  the   country   boy   who 


262  CONCLUSION 

intends  to  amount  to  something  takes  his  college 
work  in  the  city  is  because  of  the  opportunity  which 
he  can  get  of  studying  at  first-hand  the  social  problems 
that  are  rapidly  becoming  the  crucial  question  in  our 
American  civilization,  and  he  studies  them  not  merely 
as  an  onlooker,  but  as  an  active  participant.  Dozens 
of  the  undergraduates  are  now  doing  social  work  in 
settlements,  churches,  and  other  centers,  and  find  this 
to  be  not  the  least  important  part  of  their  education. 
To-day  practically  every  undergraduate  speech,  where 
the  student  selects  his  own  subject,  and  every  essay  in 
the  college  review,  is  upon  some  social  topic.  The  teacher, 
however,  can  find  much  to  do,  not  only  in  guiding  the 
social  interest  when  it  already  exists,  but  in  stimulating 
it  in  students  as  yet  unkindled.  It  is  needless  to  say 
no  attempt  is  made  to  throttle  student  radicalism.  A 
student  can  find  two  thousand  anarchistic  books  and 
pamphlets  in  the  library,  and  the  advanced  social  posi- 
tion of  many  of  the  professors  is  a  matter  of  public 
knowledge. 

In  all  these  matters  the  increasing  emphasis  upon  per- 
sonal attention  to  each  student  is,  of  course,  a  factor 
of  ever-growing  importance,  and,  if  we  regard  the  term 
in  its  broadest  sense,  it  is  not  the  least  vital  part  of  the 
teaching  of  the  institution.  There  is  no  doubt  that 
the  advocates,  from  necessity  or  choice,  of  the  smaller 
institutions  of  learning  point  to  figures  like  those  at 
Columbia  and  those  of  the  other  large  universities  as 
constituting  in  themselves  a  danger  of  neglect  to  the 
individual  student,  but,  as  a  university  president  has 
pointed  out,  it  is  just  as  easy  for  ten  teachers  to  neglect 
two  hundred  students  as  it  is  for  fifty  teachers  to  neglect 
eight  hundred,  and  just  as  likely  that  they  will.  The 
question  has  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  size;  it  has 


EESEARCH  263 

to  do  with  the  disposition  and  characteristics  of  the 
teacher. 

Of  the  three  functions  of  a  university,  research  is 
the  most  elusive.  Countless  sins  have  been  committed 
in  its  name,  but  there  is  no  question  as  to  its  vital  im- 
portance. The  spirit  of  investigation  is  indeed  the  most 
valuable  of  all  natural  resources. 

A  graduate  student  worthy  of  the  name  is  not  con- 
tent merely  to  wander  about  the  fields  that  others  have 
cultivated,  but  wishes  to  push  out  from  the  settlements 
to  reclaim  some  portion  of  the  forests  of  ignorance,  and 
he  is-  willing  to  make  the  long  preparation  necessary  to 
fit  himself  for  this  high  calling.  Those  who  succeed 
are  among  the  happiest  men  in  the  world,  and  a  handful 
of  such  students  makes  a  university  worth  while.  There 
is,  however,  a  reverse  side  to  the  picture  as  sad  as  the 
other  is  joyous — the  men  who  with  all  the  good  will  in 
the  world  simply  haven't  it  in  them,  men  for  whom  no 
amount  of  training  will  make  up  for  a  lack  in  that  natu- 
ral ability  of  a  highly  specialized  type  which  is  requisite 
for  original  research.  There  are  too  many  students  of 
this  latter  type  in  the  universities  to-day,  and  one  of 
the  tasks  of  the  future  will  be  to  prevent  as  many  as 
possible  from  entering  upon  a  hopeless  quest  by  devis- 
ing some  other  test  of  admission  than  the  possession  of 
a  bachelor's  degree,  which  as  we  all  know  may  mean 
much  or  little  or  almost  nothing.  Furthermore,  those 
who  do  get  in  must  be  eliminated,  kindly  but  firmly, 
before  they  have  wasted  too  much  of  their  own  time  and 
that  of  the  professors  and  of  their  fellow-students. 
All  along  the  line  more  personal  attention  to  each  stu- 
dent is  needed  to  make  sure  that  the  investigations  are 
real  and  not  pseudo-research,  and  also  to  guard  against 


264  CONCLUSION 

the  waste  of  precious  funds.  Another  factor  essential 
to  the  best  progress  for  the  future  will  be  the  finding 
of  some  other  badge  of  alleged  efficiency  for  teaching 
than  the  degree  of  doctor  of  philosophy. 

Dean  Woodbridge,  in  discussing  this  question  in  the 
Association  of  American  Universities,  pointed  out  that 

**  the  degree  as  conceived  in  our  rules  aims  at  one  thing 
and  has  a  certain  emphasis,  while  our  educational  situa- 
tion makes  for  a  different  thing  and  has  a  different  em- 
phasis. The  degree  in  theory  is  more  representative 
of  certain  traditional  university  ideas  than  it  is  of  the 
society  which  supports  our  universities  or  of  the  stu- 
dents who  seek  instruction  under  our  graduate  faculties 
or  of  the  educational  status  of  the  different  departments 
of  knowledge.  It  stands  more  for  an  ideal  imposed  upon 
our  culture  than  for  an  ideal  growing  out  of  our  culture. 
The  degree  lays  emphasis  on  sound  scholarship  and  ad- 
vanced research ;  the  situation  in  which  we  find  ourselves 
lays  emphasis  on  individual  ability  and  proficiency.  The 
degree  aims  at  being  the  badge  of  the  proved  investi- 
gator; the  situation  makes  it  an  indication  of  compe- 
tency to  perform  certain  services.  In  other  words,  the 
degree  is  conceived  primarily  with  reference  to  a  stand- 
ard and  not  primarily  with  reference  to  the  preparation, 
needs,  and  aims  of  the  students  who  are  prepared  to 
spend  several  years  in  university  study,  nor  with  refer- 
ence to  the  expansion  of  university  courses  and  depart- 
ments." 

Every  American  university  is  encouraging  students 
to  undertake  research  in  too  many  departments  of 
knowledge.  Mutual  agreements,  concentrating  in  single 
universities  the  fields  necessarily  narrow,  would  not  only 
free  funds  now  wasted  and  sorely  needed  for  work  in 
profitable  fields,  but  would,  by  bringing  the  students 
together  in  larger  units,  do  much  to  supply  the  intel- 
lectual rivalry  now  markedly  absent. 


PUBLIC  SERVICE  265 

The  higher  learning  has  not  been  without  its  share 
of  snobbery  and  intolerance,  and  it  is  only  recently  that 
investigation  in  subjects  of  immediately  recognized 
practical  value  has  been  regarded  as  worthy  of  the  name 
of  research,  even  with  a  small  "  r."  Not  so  long  ago 
Columbia  University  would  have  questioned  the  wisdom 
of  accepting  $75,000  for  the  study  of  legislative  draft- 
ing, or  of  $50,000  for  good  roads.  To-day  research  in 
education  has  been  well  organized,  medicine  is  begin- 
ning to  find  itself,  and  law  and  engineering  are  feeling 
their  way.  The  dean  of  the  faculty  of  applied  sci- 
ence is  urging  the  trustees  to  erect  a  factory  building 
to  render  the  kind  of  service  in  commercial  research  that 
is  already  being  given  in  Germany  by  many  of  the 
technical  schools. 

It  is  too  soon  to  say  what  will  be  the  influence  on 
the  universities  of  the  separately  endowed  research  in- 
stitutions which  are  becoming  a  new  and  significant  fea- 
ture on  our  intellectual  horizon.  So  far  as  one  can  see, 
however,  they  will  benefit  the  universities  rather  than 
harm  them,  both  by  providing  a  spur  to  greater  accom- 
plishment and  by  furnishing  a  career  to  the  men  inter- 
ested in  research  who  cannot  or  will  not  teach,  and  who 
up  to  the  present  have  had  to  pretend  to  do  so  in  order 
to  earn  a  living  and  get  the  opportunity  for  investi- 
gation. 

The  public  usefulness  of  Columbia  in  teaching  and 
research  to-day  may  fairly  be  assumed  from  the  num- 
bers of  its  students.  Its  public  service  in  other  ways 
is  harder  to  measure,  but  there  may  be  seen  clearly  on 
every  hand  a  tendency  to  broaden  out  beyond  depart- 
ment and  professional  bounds  toward  identification  with 
the  city,  state,   and  country.    The  president  has  ex- 


266  CONCLUSION 

pressed  the  general  feeling  that  "  our  material  equip- 
ment and  advantages  are  not  regarded  as  ends  in  them- 
selves, but  simply  as  so  many  means  to  that  single  higher 
end  of  service  to  which  the  university  is  devoted  and 
for  which  it  exists. ' ' 

The  institution  has  an  honorable  tradition  as  to  the 
public  usefulness  of  its  men.  When  the  New  York 
Chamber  of  Commerce  opened  its  present  building  three 
statues  were  unveiled,  all  of  Columbia  graduates — 
Clinton,  Hamilton,  and  Jay.  The  second  Johnson, 
Mitchill,  and  Renwick  were  prominent  public  serv- 
ants, and  later  on  Torrey,  Lieber,  Newberry,  and  Trow- 
bridge all  rendered  service  of  signal  value  to  the  Govern- 
ment at  Washington.  Since  1849,  Columbia's  president 
has  always  been  a  public  servant  of  distinction,  as  is  also 
the  present  chairman  of  the  trustees,  George  L.  Rives. 

An  important  part  of  the  public  service  of  an  insti- 
tution is  in  the  academic  and  public  utterances  of  its 
professors.  Kent's  Commentaries,  it  is  said,  have  had 
a  deeper  and  more  lasting  influence  in  the  formation  of 
the  national  character  than  any  other  secular  book  of 
the  nineteenth  century,  and  the  influence  of  the  later  law 
teachers  upon  legal  thought  throughout  the  country, 
through  their  case  books  and  the  like,  has  been  of  the 
first  importance.  Few  recent  books  have  been  so  in- 
fluential for  the  public  good  as  Professor  Holt's  on 
the  care  and  feeding  of  children.  The  President's  Re- 
port for  1913  contains  a  striking  list  of  thirty-three 
recently  published  books  of  permanent  importance  by 
members  of  the  University.  In  addition  to  Dean 
Russell's  campaign  to  induce  college-bred  women  to 
go  into  kindergarten  and  primary  education  and  into 
the  various  practical  arts,  he  has  joined  with  Pro- 
fessor  Dewey    in    making    a  far-reaching  educational 


PUBLIC  SERVICE  267 

recommendation.  Realizing  that  for  most  children  six 
years  represents  the  entire  period  of  formal  training, 
they  would  lay  during  these  years  the  soundest  possible 
foundation.  While  retaining  the  traditional  humanistic 
and  scientific  studies,  they  would  substitute  for  the  so- 
called  "  frills,"  which  now  occupy  so  much  of  the  stu- 
dents' time,  a  single  comprehensive  and  carefully  co-or- 
dinated study — the  elements  of  industry. 

The  total  amount  and  variety  of  outside  service  were 
never  realized,  even  within  the  University,  until  the  recent 
publication  of  a  list,  filling  thirteen  octavo  pages,  of  the 
public  and  semi-public  undertakings  in  which  fully 
half  the  professors  are  now  engaged.  Some  have  been 
mentioned  in  a  previous  chapter,  and  it  is  impossible  in 
this  place  to  give  a  summary  of  Columbia's  record  in 
more  than  a  single  field.  The  kind  of  service  likely  to 
prove  most  rich  to-day  in  possibilities  for  the  betterment 
of  mankind  is  perhaps  in  the  field  of  internationalism. 
Until  the  publication  of  Moore 's  monumental  *  *  Digest  of 
International  Law,"  Lieber's  Civil  War  "  Instructions 
for  the  Government  of  Armies  ' '  was  the  most  important 
contribution  which  America  had  made  to  the  law  of  na- 
tions. It  was  still  a  living  and  controlling  document 
at  The  Hague  in  1907.  President  Low  served  as  a  dele- 
gate to  the  first  Hague  Conference.  To-day  not  only 
are  men  in  the  service  of  Columbia  executive  officers 
of  the  New  York  Peace  Society  and  the  Association  for 
International  Conciliation,  but  of  the  three  great  divi- 
sions of  the  Carnegie  Endowment  for  the  Advancement 
of  Peace,  the  most  important  contribution  in  the  field 
of  International  Law  has  been  assigned  to  Professor 
Moore,  Professor  Clark  is  at  the  head  of  the  division  of 
Economics,  and  President  Butler  of  the  division  of 
Intercourse  and  Education. 


268  CONCLUSION 

For  the  University  as  such  to  claim  entire  credit  for 
the  public  services  of  its  members  would  of  course  be 
absurd,  but  it  does  deserve  its  share,  in  the  first  place 
for  the  conscious  selection  of  men  of  this  type,  and 
further  for  giving  them  the  opportunity  to  pursue  their 
public  work  and  accepting  it  as  creditable  academic 
service.  This,  by  the  way,  is  a  comparatively  recent 
development.  It  will  be  remembered  even  the  pro- 
gressive trustees  of  1857  noted  with  evident  approval 
that  only  three  of  the  faculty  *  *  wrote  books, ' '  pre- 
sumably to  the  neglect  of  their  stated  duties. 

The  opportunities  for  professors  to  interest  themselves 
in  outside  public  activities  have  been  greatly  increased 
by  the  development  of  functional  administration  in  our 
universities.  It  is  doubtless  true  that  in  some  cases  stu- 
dents suffer  from  too  great  devotion  on  the  part  of  their 
professors  to  outside  interests,  but,  by  and  large,  the 
student  as  well  as  the  institution  derives  benefit.  There 
is  such  a  thing  as  academic  provincialism,  and  it  is  a 
thing  to  fear. 

A  more  definitely  institutional  contribution  to  public 
needs  is  the  lending  of  men  to  meet  some  sudden  pub- 
lic need.  It  has  been  found  that  university  men  can 
be  rapidly  mobilized  for  public  service  and,  their  tasks 
done,  they  return  quietly  to  the  ranks  of  teaching  schol- 
ars. In  times  of  fire  and  flood.  Professor  Devine  was 
sent  to  San  Francisco  and  to  Daj^on  to  administer  re- 
lief funds.  Professor  Boas  spent  a  year  in  Mexico  to 
assist  in  the  organization  of  a  national  university  there. 
Professor  Goodnow  was  loaned  to  the  Economy  Commis- 
sion at  Washington  for  a  year  and  is  now  on  a  three- 
year  mission  in  China  as  constitutional  adviser  to  the 
Republic.     On  various  occasions  Washington  has  bor- 


OUTLOOK  269 

rowed  Professor  Moore,  who  is  at  the  moment  in  the 
service  of  the  Department  of  State. 

Aside  from  the  services  of  individuals,  the  University 
as  an  institution  endeavors  to  do  its  share  in  move- 
ments of  public  importance.  Whenever  possible  the  dor- 
mitories are  thrown  open  without  charge  to  delegations 
visiting  the  city.  Other  buildings  are  turned  over  to 
bodies  temporarily  without  a  home — the  National  Acad- 
emy of  Design  after  its  recent  fire,  for  example,  and 
churches  of  various  denominations. 

The  Speyer  Building  was  definitely  constructed  as  a 
social  center.  At  the  Medical  School,  not  only  has  the 
total  free  attendance  at  the  Vanderbilt  Clinic  in  the  last 
decade  exceeded  three  million  and  the  cases  at  the  Sloane 
Hospital  approached  thirty  thousand,  but  social  work- 
ers and  visiting  nurses  are  employed,  and  an  animal  hos- 
pital, an  open-air  public  school  for  tubercular  children, 
and  a  milk  station  are  maintained. 

In  one  field  of  vital  public  importance,  the  providing 
of  wider  opportunities  for  women,  Columbia  has  already 
done  much,  but  it  has  still  more  to  do.  In  undergradu- 
ate study  and  in  preparation  for  certain  professional 
and  vocational  work  the  situation  is  satisfactory,  and 
Barnard  College  maintains  a  special  oflScer  to  keep  in 
touch  with  the  movements  now  in  progress  to  open  up 
for  college  women  various  occupations  other  than  teach- 
ing. But  it  is  still  true,  as  Professor  Trent  wrote  some 
years  ago,  that  "  an  intelligent  and  reputable  human 
being,  simply  because  the  accident  of  birth  has  made  her 
a  woman,  may  be  denied  the  advanced  and  specialized 
training  in  legitimate  studies  taught  in  Columbia  Uni- 
versity to  mortals  differently  attired. ' '  The  most  flagrant 
cases  are,  of  course,  law  and  medicine,  since  up  to  the 


270  CONCLUSION 

present  there  has  been  little  demand  on  the  part  of 
women  for  training  in  engineering. 

It  would  seem  that,  partly  from  deliberate  policy  and 
partly  from  the  incessant  stimulation  of  the  surround- 
ing city,  Columbia  is  destined  to  continue  directly  or 
indirectly  to  make  her  contributions  to  general  public 
service.  Though  the  service  will  never  be  given  for  this 
reason,  it  is  probably  true  that  her  financial  resources 
for  the  future  will  largely  depend  upon  her  doing  so, 
for  gifts  are  likely  to  depend  more  and  more  as  time 
goes  on  upon  the  general  public  usefulness  of  the 
recipient. 

Besides  the  complex  problems  of  space  and  numbers, 
of  identification  with  the  community  and  willingness  to 
serve  it,  all  of  which  condition  the  future  of  a  university, 
there  still  remains  one  to  be  considered,  and  that  is  the 
question  of  outlook.  The  living  university  must  be  not 
only  a  storehouse  of  the  old  thoughts,  but  a  workshop  of 
the  new.  Mr.  Stokes  has  recently  pointed  out  in  the 
Yale  Review  that  our  most  venerable  universities  (he 
mentions  particularly  Harvard,  Yale,  Princeton,  Penn- 
sylvania, and  Columbia)  were  centers  of  ardent  patriot- 
ism and  of  progress  in  the  Revolution  and  during  the 
Civil  War.  "  They  must  continue  to  be  actively  on 
the  side  of  progress  in  solving  the  many  social,  po- 
litical, and  industrial  problems  of  to-day,  or  else  forfeit 
their  claim  to  represent  the  American  people.  Their 
contact  with  enthusiastic  youth  from  all  sections,  com- 
bined with  their  firm  sense  of  dependence  upon  the  past, 
should  make  them  well-balanced  leaders  in  meeting  the 
country's  needs.  Universities  may  be  liberal,  as  in  Rus- 
sia, or  conservative,  as  in  England,  and  yet  continue 
forces  for  good.    But  the  moment  they  become  reaction- 


THE  PLACE  OF  THE  UNIVERSITY       271 

ary  they  will  forfeit  that  respect  of  the  people  which  is 
necessary  for  any  successful  institution  in  a  democ- 
racy. ' ' 

No  man  can  foresee  the  lines  along  which  progress 
is  to  be  made.  The  radical  in  youth  is  often  the  con- 
servative, even  the  reactionary,  in  after  years,  although 
youth  is  not  always  in  the  front  rank  and  age  in  the 
rear.  In  any  large  body  of  men  there  will  always  be 
those  looking  backward  and  those  looking  forward.  To- 
day Columbia,  to  quote  an  interesting  recent  newspaper 
article  by  an  undergraduate,  "  through  a  large  percent- 
age of  her  teachers  and  through  many  of  her  students, 
represents  the  type  of  university  dedicated  to  progress 
and  theories  of  betterment  which  have  been  almost  en- 
tirely in  the  past  the  possession  of  European  universi- 
ties. Its  future  usefulness  depends  upon  the  perma- 
nence of  this  condition  more  than  upon  any  single 
factor. ' ' 

The  past  of  Columbia  University  has  had  its  vital 
share  in  what  is  best  in  the  history  and  life  of  our  nation, 
and  particularly  of  our  city,  and  the  present  is  a  period 
of  splendid  interest  and  activity.  In  the  words  of  Presi- 
dent Butler:  **  So  soon  as  one  need  appears  to  be  met, 
twenty  others  spring  up  to  take  its  place.  .  .  .  The 
glory  of  our  task  is  that  it  cannot  be  finished.  It  is 
because  it  is  alive,  because  it  grows,  because  it  is  human, 
because  it  touches  individual  and  public  life  in  ten  thou- 
sand points,  that  we  never  shall  be  done,  and  we  never 
want  to  be  done." 

I  have  tried  in  this  concluding  chapter  to  give  some 
of  the  factors  affecting  its  future,  but  after  all  this  fu- 
ture cannot  be  regarded  as  a  separate  thing,  it  is  bound 
up  in  the  future  of  the  university  as  an  institution,  and 
there  is  within  my  knowledge  no  more  eloquent  or  in- 


272  CONCLUSION 

spiring  outlook  upon  that  future  than  in  the  words  of 
the  president  of  Columbia  University  at  the  dedication 
of  the  New  York  State  Education  Building  in  1912 : 

' '  We  must  not  shut  our  eyes  to  the  fact  that  the  task 
of  the  university  grows  greater  as  the  diflSculties  of 
democracy  grow  heavier  and  more  numerous.  But  the 
university  dare  not  shrink  from  its  responsibility,  from 
its  call  to  public  service,  from  its  protection  of  liberty. 
The  university  must  not  follow,  it  must  lead.  The  uni- 
versity must  not  seek  for  popularity,  it  must  remain  true 
to  principle.  The  university  must  not  sacrifice  its  inde- 
pendence either  through  fear  of  criticism  or  abuse  or 
through  hope  of  favors  and  of  gain.  We  dare  not  be 
false  to  our  great  tradition.  Remember  that,  of  all  ex- 
isting institutions  of  civilization  which  have  had  their 
origin  in  the  western  world,  the  university  is  now  the 
oldest,  save  only  the  Christian  Church  and  the  Roman 
Law.  The  university  has  witnessed  the  decline  and  fall 
of  empires,  the  migration  of  peoples,  the  discovery  of 
continents,  and  one  revolution  after  another  in  the  intel- 
lectual, social,  and  political  life  of  man.  .  .   . 

**  The  university  has  been  at  the  heart  and  center  of 
almost  every  great  movement  in  the  western  world  that 
has  an  intellectual  aspect  or  an  intellectual  origin.  Its 
responsibility  was  never  so  heavy  as  it  is  to-day.  .  .  . 

"We  are  looking  out,  by  common  consent,  upon  a  new 
and  changing  intellectual  and  social  sea.  The  sight  is 
unfamiliar  to  the  individual,  but  not  to  the  university. 
The  university  has  seen  it  so  often,  whether  the  change 
has  been  for  good  or  for  ill,  that  the  university  knows 
that,  if  only  it  keeps  its  mind  clear  and  its  heart  true 
and  the  prow  of  its  ship  turned  toward  the  pole-star, 
it  will  survive  these  changes,  whatever  they  may  be,  and 
will  contribute  to  make  them  beneficent.  The  university 
knows  by  long  experience  that  it  will  come  out  of  all 
these  changes  stronger,  more  influential,  and  bearing  a 
heavier  responsibility  than  ever. 

**  I  do  not  speak  of  the  university  which  is  brick  and 
stone  and  mortar  and  steel.    I  do  not  even  speak  of  the 


THE  PLACE  OF  THE  UNIVERSITY       273 

university  which  is  books  and  laboratories  and  class- 
rooms and  thronging  companies  of  students.  I  speak  of 
the  university  as  a  great  human  ideal.  I  speak  of  it  as 
the  free  pursuit  of  truth  by  scholars  in  association,  partly 
for  the  joy  of  discovery  in  the  pursuit  of  knowledge, 
partly  for  the  service  to  one's  fellow-men  through  the 
results  of  discovery  and  the  pursuit  of  knowledge. 

"  When  I  look  back  and  remember  what  the  univer- 
sity so  conceived  has  done,  when  I  remember  the  great 
names,  the  noble  characters,  the  splendid  achievements 
that  are  built  forever  into  its  thousand  and  more  years 
of  history,  I  think  I  can  see  that  we  have  only  to  remain 
true  to  our  high  tradition,  only  to  hold  fast  to  our 
inflexible  purpose,  only  to  continue  to  nourish  a  disci- 
plined and  reverent  liberty,  to  make  it  certain  that  the 
university  will  remain  to  serve  mankind  when  even  the 
marble  and  steel  of  this  great  building  shall  have  crum- 
bled and  rusted  into  dust." 


APPENDIX 


Columbia  Univebsitt,  Compabative  FioxmES  fob  the  yeabs  op 

THE  adoption  OF  THE  UNIVEESITY  RePOBT,  OF  THE  ELECTION  AND 

betibement  of  Pbesident  Low,  and  foe  1913 

1890  1901  1913 


stu- 


Teaehers 

Resident 

dents    

Students  receiv- 
ing degrees  and 
diplomas    . . . 

Books      in      li 
brary,  about 

Income   

Assets  (net)   . 


1857 
14 


179 


27 

20,000 
$62,000 


203 


1,753 


332 

100,000 
$519,000 


393 


4,440 


610 


315,000 

$1,400,000 

$1,054,000  $11,365,000  $21,000,000 


738 
9,929 


1,660 

520,000 

$3,048,092 

$54,000,000 


B 

SUMMABY  OF  FINANCIAL  STATEMENTS,  1912-13 

Income :  Colambia  Univ.    Barnard  Col.  Teachers  Col.       Phar'cy 

Interest    $402,029.21     $71,449.25  $95,751.58       $513.02 

Rents    700,372.72        

Student  fees  ... .      764,136.041  f  47,308.50 

Other  student  re-  1 100,472.81  495,377.49  J 


ceipts       ( room- 
rent,  etc. )    .... 

Gifts    

Miscellaneous   . . . 


$139,930.60  $509,087.50  $34,440.76 


154,697.82]  [    5,385.70 

154,213.43         1,130.95       22,254.65 
17,088.43       14,408.26         1,039.63  453.38 

Total $2,192,537.65  $187,461.27  $614,423.35  $53,660.60 

Expenditures : 

(Jeneral  adminis- 
trative expenses   $151,775.00 

Salaries  and  de- 
partmental ex- 
penses        1,355,088.00 

Library    106,461.50 

Care  of  buildings 

and  grounds   . .      321,538.00 

Business  adminis- 
tration            50,200.00 

Miscellaneous  ex- 
penses            59,299.27 

Interest   115,945.00 

Reduction  of  debt      100,000.00 


2,385.12 

11,946.64 

493.00 

54,930.90 

86,955.18 

2,403.70 

4,353.45 

15,035.72 

190.37 

13,967.50 
2,716.97 

9,287.95 

130.50 
4,050.00 
5,000.00 

Total $2,260,306.77  $218,284.54  $632,312.99  $46,708.33 

Surplus  or  deficit  -$67,769. 12_$30,823.27-$17,889.64-f$6,952.27 

275 


276 


APPENDIX 


Registration  in  All  Faculties,  November,  1904-13 

Note  :  The  current  flgurea  given  in  tlie  body  of  the  book  are  for  February,  1914. 


Students  registered  in : 


1904 


1905 


1906 


1907 


1908 


1909 


1910 


1911 


1912 


1913 


Columbia  College 627 

Barnard  College 

Total  undergraduates I 


606  609  645 
398  420  467 
100411029  1112 


513 

1145 


729  757 
521  607 
1250  1364 


819 
590 
1409 


841 
623 
1464 


Faculty  of  Political  Science I  148 

Faculty  of  Philosophy 392 

Faculty  of  Pure  Science !  160 

Total    non-professional    graduate; 
students ■  700 


Schools  of  Mines,  Engineering,  and 

Chemistry j  589 

■■  109 

342 
560 


Fine  Arts 

Law  School 

Medical  School 

School  of  Journalism 

College  of  Pharmacy 

Teachers  College  (Faculty  of  Edu- 

catiop,) 1^0 

School  of  Practical  Arts \ 

Total  professional  students 2675 


435 


2229 


Double  registration 218 

Net  total  resident  students 4056 


266 
4017 


155 
8886 


316 
658 
193 

1167 


348 
705 
21 

1270 


366 
777 
256 

1399 


1496 


665 
159 
450 
341 
106 
441 


1406 


1476 


2356  2691  2708 


182,  216 
4100  4540 


194 


230    286 


4650  5J  46  5669 


1379 
227 

3679 
334 

6148 


1345 
325 

3832 
389 

6403 


Summer  Session ;  961 

Double  registration !  184 

Grand  total  regular  students |4833 

Students  in  extension  courses  and  inj 
special  classes  at  Teachers  College.  684 


280 
4755 


277 
4650 


336    395 
5156  5677 


10173055 


1968  2632  2973 


486  667 
6132  7411 


2879 


2250 


3002 


704 
7938 


1820  2404 


9002 


2939 


4539 
1013 
9929 

3644 


APPENDIX 


277 


278 


APPENDIX 


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280  APPENDIX 

F 

GIFTS,  BEQUESTS  OF  $50,000  AND  ABOVE,  AND  CLASS 
MEMORIALS 

(To  the  University  Corporation  unless  otherwise  indicated) 

1881— Stephen  Whitney  Phoenix,  '59. 

On  account  of  residuary  estate. .  (about)  $210,000.00 
1886— William  H.  Vanderbilt  (To  College  of  Physicians  and  Sur- 
geons before  merger). 

The  Medical  School land  and  $400,000.00 

1886,  1889,  1895,  1910— Mr.  and  Mrs.  William  D.  Sloane. 

For  construction  and  endowment  of  Sloane  Hospital 

for  Women  (about)  $1,200,000.00 

1886,  1896— Cornelius,  William  K.,  Frederick  W.,  and  George  W. 
Vanderbilt. 

For  erection  and  endowment  of  Vanderbilt  Clinic  in 

memory  of  William  H.  Vanderbilt $350,000.00 

For  Institute  of  Anatomy $125,000 

1889— Estate  of  President  and  Mrs.  F.  A.  P.  Barnard. 

For  benefit  of  library  and  to  establish  a  fellowship 

and  a  medal (about)  $86,000.00 

1890-1910— Mr.  and  Mrs.  Samuel  P.  Avery. 

For   purchase   of  books  on  architecture   and   allied 
arts  in  memory  of  Henry  Ogden  Avery  .$150,000.00 
1891— Estate  of  Charles  Bathgate  Beck,  77. .  (about)  $312,000.00 
1891 — Estate  of  Daniel  B.  Fayerweather. 

Legacy  used  for  erection  of  Fayerweather  Hall, 

(about)  $308,000.00 
1891— Estate  of  Charles  M.  Da  Costa,  '55. 

For  benefit  of  the  Department  of  Zoology. $100,000.00 
1892— William  E.  Dodge  (Teachers  College). 

For  Main  Building $80,000.00 

1892— George  W.  Vanderbilt  (Teachers  College). 

For  land $150,000.00 

1892,  1912— -Joseph  Pulitzer. 

For  establishment  of  Pulitzer  Scholarship  Fund, 

$350,000.00 
1893— Estate  of  Hamilton  Fish,  '27. 

Applied  toward  purchase  of  new  site $50,000.00 

1894 — Mrs.  Caroline  L.  Macy  (Teachers  College). 

Building     in     memory     of     her     husband,     Josiah 

Macy,  Jr $252,233.03 

1893 — J.  Pierpont  Morgan. 

Toward  purchase  of  new  site $100,000.00 

1893— William  C.  Schermerhorn,  '40. 

Toward  purchase  of  new  site $100,000.00 

1893— D.  Willis  James. 

Toward  purchase  of  new  site $50,000.00 


APPENDIX  281 

1893 — Cornelius  Vanderbilt. 

Toward  purchase  of  new  site $100,000.00 

1896— Seth  Low,  70. 

For  erection  of  Library  Building  as  a  memorial  to 
his  father,  Abiel  Abbot  Low  (about)  $1,100,000.00 
1896-1903 — Mrs.  A.  A.  Anderson   (Barnard  College). 

For  Milbank  Hall  and  Milbank  Quadrangle, 

(about)  $1,200,000.00 
1896 — Children    and    Nephew    of    the    late    Frederick    Christian 
Havemeyer. 

For  erection  of  building  for  Department  of  Chem- 
istry known  as  Havemeyer  Hall $450,000.00 

1896— Mrs.  Mary  E.  Ludlow. 

For    endowment  of   the    Department   of    Music,    in 

memory  of  her  son,  Robert  Center $178,000.00 

1896— William  C.  Schermerhorn,  '40. 

For    erection     of     building    for    natural    sciences, 

known  as  Schermerhorn  Hall $450,000.00 

1896— Mrs.  Van  Wyck  Brinckerhoflf  (Barnard  College). 

For  Brinckerhoflf  Hall $150,000.00 

1896 — ^Mrs.  Joseph  M.  Fiske  (Barnard  College). 

For  Fiske  Hall,  a  memorial  to  her  husband, 

$150,000.00 
1898 — Chamber  of  Commerce  of  the  State  of  New  York  (through 
public  subscription). 

For  establishment  of  George  E.  Waring  Fund  for 
instruction  in  municipal  affairs    (subject  to   life 
interests  of  Mrs.  and  Miss  Waring)  . .  .$100,000.00 
1897 — Joseph  Milbank  (Teachers  College). 

Milbank   Building    $256,870.89 

1898,  1900,  1911— Gen.  H.  W.  Carpentier,  '48  (Barnard  College). 

To  establish  Henrietta  Carpentier  Fund  for  general 
endowment  (subject  to  life  interests)  .  .$250,000.00 
1899 — ^Anonymous. 

For    endowment   of    Jaeobi    Ward    for    children    in 

Roosevelt  Hospital  $50,000.00 

1899 — John  D.  Rockefeller. 

For  endowment  of  Professorship  of  Psychology, 

$100,000.00 
1899 — John  D.  Rockefeller  (Teachers  College). 

For  land $50,000.00 

1899,  1900 — Mrs.  Caroline  L.  Macy   (Teachers  College). 

For  endowment $175,000.00 

1900— William  E.  Dodge. 

For  erection  of  building  for  Young  Men's  Christian 
Association  known  as  Earl  Hall,  in  memory  of 

his  son (about)  $160,000.00 

1900— Mrs.  E.  T.  Bryson   (Teachers  College). 

For  endowment $83,827.85 


282  APPENDIX 

1900— Alumni  Gifts. 

Toward  erection  of  Alumni  Memorial  Hall, 

$100,000.00 
1901 — ^Anonymous. 

For   endowment  of   Department  of  Chinese    (Dean 

Lung  Professorship)    $225,000.00 

1901— Estate  of  Henry  Villard. 

To  be  applied  to  the  general  uses  of  the  University, 

$50,000.00 
1901 — John  D.  Rockefeller  (Barnard  College). 

Toward  Endowment  Fund $250,000.00 

1901 — ^Mr.  and  Mrs.  James  Speyer  (Teachers  College). 

Speyer  School    $133,024.47 

1901 — Mr.  and  Mrs.  Valentine  Everit  Macy   (Teachers  College). 
Horace  Mann  School  Building,  in  memory  of  Caro- 
line L.  Macy (about)  $450,000.00 

1903— Gen.  H.  W.  Carpentier,  '48. 

For  establishment  of  James  S.  Carpentier  Fund  for 

the  benefit  of  the  Law  School $300,000.00 

1903 — Mrs.    Henry     Hartley    Jenkins    and    Marcellus     Hartley 
Dodge,  '03. 
For  erection  of  dormitory  known  as  Hartley  Hall, 

in  memory  of  Marcellus  Hartley $350,000.00 

1903 — Estate  of  Dorman  B.  Eaton. 

For  endowment  of  Chair  of  Municipal  Science  and 

Administration    $100,000.00 

1903 — Joseph  F.  Loubat. 

For  endowment  of  Loubat  Professorship  of  American 

Archaeology    $100,000.00 

1903,  1911,  1912— Estate  of  Joseph  Pulitzer. 

For  the  establishment  of  the  School  of  Journalism, 

$1,000,000.00 
1904— Edward  D.  Adams. 

For    establishment    of    a    Fellowship    in    Physical 
Science,   in  memory  of   Ernest  Kempton   Adams, 

E.  E.,  '97   $50,000.00 

1904— Gen.  H.  W.  Carpentier,  '48. 

Toward    establishment    of    a    professorship    in    the 
Medical  School,  in  memory  of  his  brother,  Reuben 

S.   Carpentier    $100,000.00 

1904 — ^Adolph  Lewisohn. 

For  erection  of  School  of  Mines  Building, 

(about)  $300,000.00 
1904 — ^Misses  Olivia  Phelps  Stokes  and  Caroline  Phelps  Stokes. 

For  erection  of  St.  Paul's  Chapel  (about)  $250,000.00 
1904— Mrs.  William  E.  Dodge  (Teachers  College). 

For  land $50,000.00 

1904— Estate  of  William  E,  Dodge  (Teachers  College). 

For  land $50,000.00 

1904 — James  Speyer  (Teachers  College). 

For  land $50,000.00 


APPENDIX  283 

1905 — Mrs.  Frederick  Ferris  Thompson  (Teachers  College). 

Physical    Education    Building,    in    memory    of    her 

husband    $400,000.00 

1905 — John  Stewart  Kennedy. 

For  erection  of  Hamilton  Hall $500,000.00 

1905,  1906,  1907— John  D.  Rockefeller  (Teachers  College). 

For  endo\vment  $500,000.00 

1905— Jacob  H.  Schiff. 

For  endowment  of  Professorship  of  Social  Economy, 

$100,000.00 
1905 — James  Speyer. 

For  establishment  of  Theodore  Roosevelt  Professor- 
ship in  the  University  of  Berlin $50,000.00 

1906,  1909— Mr.  and  Mrs.  George  Blumenthal. 

For  scholarships  in  the  School  of  Medicine  and  for 
establishment  of  a  Chair  in  Politics. .  .$114,575.00 
1906 — Mrs.  Maria  H.  Williamson. 

For  establishment  of  professorhip  or  lectureship  on 
the    origins    and    growth    of   civilizations    among 

men  (Edward  R.  Carpentier  Fund) $250,000.00 

1906 — ^Anonymous  Donors  (Barnard  College). 

For  construction  of  Brooks  Hall,  named  in  memory 

of  Rev.  Arthur  Brooks (about)  $250,000.00 

1906 — ^Anonymous  (Teachers  College). 

For  endowment $50,000.00 

1906— Mrs.  William  E.  Dodge  (Teachers  College). 

For  endowment $50,000.00 

1907 — ^Anonymous. 

For  establishment  of  Henry  Bergh  Fund,  to  be  used 
for  the  inculcating  of  a  spirit  of  kindness  and 
consideration  toward  the  lower  animals, 

$100,000.00 
1907 — ^Miss  Grace  H.  Dodge  (Teachers  College), 

Whittier  Hall  stock $125,000.00 

1907 — ^Mr.  Charles  W.  Harkness  (Teachers  College). 

WTiittier  Hall   stock $50,000.00 

1907,  1908,  1909,  1910— Miss  Grace  H.  Dodge  (Teachers  College), 

Household  Arts  Building (about)  $450,000.00 

1908 — Children  of  the  late  Rev.  Orlando  Harriman,  '35. 

For   endowment  of   Professorship    of   Rhetoric   and 

English  $100,000.00 

1908 — Anonymous. 

For  cancer  research  $50,000.00 

1908— Estate  of  D.  Willis  James. 

Applied  toward  salary  of  Professor  of  Geology, 

$100,000.00 
1908 — Estate  of  Lura  Currier. 

Bequest  to  establish  Nathaniel  Currier  Fund  lor 
the  Library  $50,000.00 


284  APPENDIX 

1908— Estate  of  Emily  O.  Gibbes  (Barnard  College). 

For  endowment  fund   (subject  in  part  to  life  inter- 
ests)     (about)  $378,000.00 

1909 — ^Anonymous. 

Toward  erection  of  Kent  Hall $100,000.00 

1909 — Estate  of  John  Stewart  Kennedy. 

On  account  of  legacy  set  aside  as  an  Endowment 

Fund    (about)    $2,177,000.00 

1909,  1910— Mrs.  Helen  Hartley  Jenkins. 

For  endowment  of  Teachers  College $150,000.00 

For  erection  of  Philosophy  Building $350,000.00 

1910 — Estate  of  John  S.  Kennedy   (Teachers  College). 

For  land $50,000.00 

1910 — ^Anonymous. 

For  establishment  of  John  W.  Burgess  Fund,  to  be 
applied    toward    the    general    endowment    of    the 

University    $100,000.00 

1910— George  J.  Gould. 

Toward  purchase  of  East  Field $100,000.00 

1910 — Frank  A.  Munsey. 

Toward  purchase  of  East  Field $50,000.00 

1910— William  K.  Vanderbilt. 

Toward  purchase  of  East  Field $136,250.00 

1910 — Estate  of  John  Stewart  Kennedy  (Barnard  College). 

Legacy   (about)    $50,000.00 

1911 — ^Many  Contributors. 

Fund  in  honor  of  Richard  Watson  Gilder,  for  study 
of  political  and  social  conditions  (about)  $50,000.00 
1911 — Samuel  P.  Avery. 

For  erection  of  Avery  Architectural  Library  Build- 
ing, in  memory  of  his  parents  and  his  brother, 
1911— Estate  of  George  Crocker.  $330,000.00 

To  establish  fund  for  cancer  research, 
1912-Mr8.  Frederick  P.  Furnald.  ^^^out)  $1,440,000.00 

For  erection  of  dormitory  known  as  Furnald  Hall, 
in  memory  of  her   son.   Royal   Blackler   Furnald, 

of  the  Class  of  1901 $300,000.00 

1912— Mr.  and  Mrs.  William  R.  Peters. 

For  establishment  of  a  fund  for  engineering  research, 
in  memory  of  William  Richmond  Peters,  Jr.,  of 

the  Class  of  1911 $50,000.00 

1913 — ^Anonymous. 

For  establishment,  later,  of  Fine  Arts  Endowment 

Fund   $250,000.00 

1913 — Estate  of  Mrs.  Annie  P.  Burgess. 

For   general   endowment   and   for  establishment   of 

scholarships    (about)    $67,000.00 

1913— Mrs.  W.  Bayard  Cutting  and  Children. 

For    establishment    of    Cutting    Travelling    Fellow- 
ships, in  memory  of  W.  Bayard  Cutting,  '68, 

$200,000.00 


APPENDIX  285 

Class  Memob^als  Pbesented  on  Gbaduation  oe  at  Anni- 
vebs abies 

74,  College: 

Ornamental  clock  in  Reading  Room  of  Library. 
77,  College: 

Portrait  of  Alexander  Hamilton. 
'80,  College  and  Mines: 

Wrought  iron  doors,  Hamilton  Hall. 
'81,  College,  Mines,  and  Political  Science: 

Flagpole  with  granite  and  bronze  base. 
'81,  College  and  Mines: 

"  The  Gemot,"  Hamilton  Hall. 
'82,  College: 

Wrought-iron  gat?; 

Stained  glass  window.  College  Stuay. 
'82,  Mines: 

Bronze  torcheres  in  front  of  School  of  Mines. 
'83,  College,  Mines,  and  Political  Science: 

Bronze  torchferes  in  front  of  Chapel. 
'84,  College: 

Marble  doorway  and  clock,  Hamilton  Hall. 
'84,  Mines: 

Improvement  of  South  Field  for  athletic  purposes. 
'85,  Mines: 

Fellowship  Fund  of  $8,200. 
'85,  College: 

Stained  glass  window,  "Sophocles,"  Hartley  Hall; 

Granite  Sun  Dial. 
'86,  College: 

"  American  Literature  Library." 
'86,  Arts,  Mines,  and  Political  Science: 

Marble  Exedra. 
'87,  College: 

Venetian  Well-Head. 
'87,  Mines: 

Student  Loan  Fund  of  $7,200. 
'88,  College  and  Mines: 

Wrought-iron  gates. 
'90-92,  College  and  Mines: 

Mapes  Memorial  Gate. 
'91,  College: 

Stained  glass  window,  "  Vergil." 
'99,  College  and  Mines: 

Improvement  of  South  Field  for  athletic  purposes. 
'00,  College  and  Applied  Science: 

Power  Launch  "  1900." 
*01,  College  and  Applied  Science: 

For  endowment  of  Committee  on  Employment  for  Students. 
'02,  College: 

Picture,  "  The  Round  Table  of  King  Arthur." 


286  APPENDIX 

'05,  Law: 

Portrait  of  Chancellor  Kent. 
'10,  et  seq.,  College: 

Collection  of  engravings,  Hamilton  Hall,  "  Dean  Van  Am- 
ringe  Fund." 
'12,  Law: 

Clock  in  Kent  Hall. 
'13,  Law: 

Moot  Court  furniture. 


INDEX 


Abbott,  Nathan,  148 

Academic  exchanges  among  the 
colleges  and  universities  of  the 
U.  S.,  40 

Academic  freedom  at  Columbia, 
149,  160 

Academic  machinery,  dangers  of 
too  much,  232 

Academic  senate,  authorized  by 
trustees,  41 

Academic   titles,   146 

Academy  of  Political  Science,  255 

Acta  Columbiana,  195 

Administration,  unity  of,  34,  36; 
success  of  present  system  of 
academic,  231-32 ;  difficulties 
arising  in  connection  with, 
234-35 

Administrative  boards,  140,  142 

Administrative  staff,  the,  58-63 

Admission,  early  standards  of, 
44  ;  present  standards,  45-47  ; 
personal  consideration  of  each 
case,  47-48 ;  method  of,  in  early 
days,   226-27 

Admission  to  professional  and  ad- 
vanced studies,  48-51 

Adraln,  Robert,  mathematical 
scholar,  166 

Advanced  work,  urged  by  Pres. 
Barnard,  100 ;  organized  under 
Prof.  Burgess,  101 ;  women  ad- 
mitted to,  102 

Advisers,  Faculty,  18,  109,  157, 
218-19 

Agriculture,  43,  242 

Alumni,  gifts  of,  to  Columbia,  xl, 
66,  97 ;  high  proportion  of  dis- 
tinguished, 5 ;  made  possible 
purchase  of  South  Field,  71- 
72 ;  appointed  to  faculty,  147 ; 
entered  academic  life  else- 
where, 147 ;  returned  to  Co- 
lumbia from  professional  life, 
148  ;  among  presidents,  169-70  ; 
attitude  of,  toward  football, 
191,  192;  associations,  201-03; 
representation  on  board  of  trus- 
tees, 203 ;  singing  on  com- 
mencement night,  225 ;  influ- 
ence of,  on  organization  and 
college  life,  238-40 
Alumni  Council.  203,  204 
Alumni  Day,  203,  216-17 


Alumni  Federation,  204 

Alumni  fellowships,  establish- 
ment of,  147 

Alumni  News,  203 

American  Farmer,  ThCj  on  college 
in  large  city,  254 

American  Mathematical  Society, 
255 

American  Museum  of  Natural 
History,  alliance  with,  38 

American  Pharmaceutical  Asso- 
ciation, 132 

Amherst  men  called  to  Columbia, 
147 

Anatomy,  Museum  of,  96 

Anderson,  Dr.  Henry  James, 
4,  11,  166 

Annapolis,  students  of  Naval 
Academy  at,   In   Columbia,   250 

Annual  Reports,  92 

Anthon,  Charles,  testifled  before 
committee  on  college  course,  6 ; 
editions  of  classics,  159 ;  dis- 
tinguished service  of,  168-69 

Applied  Science,  Faculty  of,  119- 
20 ;  desires  factory  for  com- 
mercial research,  265 

Architectural  design,  Intercollegi- 
ate contests  in,  218 

Architectural  scheme,  72,  79,  82- 
86 

Architecture,  Department  of,  es- 
tablished, 21 

Ashmore,  S.  G.,  147 

Association  of  American  Univer- 
sities, 153 

Athletic  conditions,  responsibility 
for,  201 

Athletic  sports,  189-93;  begin- 
nings of,  189 ;  individual  cham- 
pions and  heroes,  189-90 ;  row- 
ing, 190;  track  athletics,  190- 
91 ;  baseball  and  basket-ball, 
191 ;  football,  191-92 ;  minor 
sports,  192-93 ;  problem  of  gen- 
eral participation  In,  193 
Auditors,     women     admitted     as, 

102;  abolished,   138 
Austria,  agreement  with,  for  visit- 
ing professors.  38 
Avery  library,  83 ;  beauty  of  read- 
ing room  in,  85 ;  collection  of 
Fine  Arts  books,  91 
Avery,      Henry     Ogden,     library 

memorial  to,  91 
Avery,  S.  P.,  91 


287 


288 


INDEX 


Baldwin,  Charles  S.,  148 

Bangs,  F.  S.,  189 

Bangs,  John  Kendrick,  on  old 
building,  187;  edited  Acta, 
195  ;  verse  of,  196 

Bard,  Dr.  Samuel,  11,  124,  165, 
167 

Barnard,  Frederick  A.  P.,  xiii ;  ap- 
pointed president,  12 ;  person- 
ality, 12-13  ;  reports  of,  13-14  ; 
summary  of  work  of,  14  ;  advo- 
cated elective  system,  14-16  ;  on 
discipline,  16-17 ;  made  pro- 
vision for  graduate  work,  18- 
19 ;  established  School  of  Polit- 
ical Science,  19  ;  attitude  toward 
vocational  training,  20-21 ;  sup- 
ported School  of  Mines,  21 ; 
favored  training  of  teachers, 
22-23,  128 ;  championed  higher 
education  of  women,  23-24,  112- 
13 ;  personality  and  fame,  25- 
26 ;  memorials  to,  26-27 ;  real 
leader  of  university  movement, 
30 ;  bequest  of,  to  college,  71 ; 
Income  of  college  under,  71 ; 
on  Income  from  fees,  74 ;  on 
debt,  75 ;  urged  graduates  to 
work  of  investigation,  JOO ;  fa- 
vored student  self-government, 
199 

Barnard  Alumnae  Association, 
115,   202,  204 

Barnard  College,  established,  24- 
25,  27 ;  incorporated  in  Uni- 
versity, 38-39 ;  duties  of  pro- 
vost and  dean  of,  58-59 ;  finan- 
cial assets  of,  65,  115 ;  first 
gifts  to,  68 ;  purchased  site  on 
Mornlngslde  Heights,  79 ;  first 
home  of,  80 ;  description  of 
buildings  of,  86-87  ;  library  of, 
91 ;  equipment  for  natural 
science,  95 ;  works  of  art  at, 
97 ;  scholars  of  distinction 
added  to  faculty  of,  102 ;  indi- 
viduality of,  111-12 ;  develop- 
ment of,  112-14 ;  combined 
courses  at,  114 ;  growth  and 
prestige,  114-15;  Y.  W.  C.  A. 
at,  174;  student  life  at,  178; 
work  of  student  assistants  at, 
183 ;  basket-ball  at,  191 ;  self- 
government  at,  200 

Barnard  College  faculty  and  Uni- 
versity, 39 

Barnard  fund  for  library,  26 

Barnard  Literary  Association,  195 

Barnard  medal  for  meritorious 
service  to  science,  21,  26 

Barnard  Professorship  of  Educa- 
tion, 27 

Bartlett,  Prof.,  testified  before 
committee  on  college  course,  6 


Baseball,  191 ;  game  on  com- 
mencement day,  225 

Basket-ball,  191,  212 

Beard,  Charles  A.,  159 

Bequests  to  Columbia,  66,  67 

Bergson,   Henri,   213 

Betts,  William,  member  of  com- 
mittee on  college  course,  4 

Bjerknes,  Prof.  W.  F.,  on 
work  required  of  professors, 
154 

Bloomingdale  Asylum  for  the  In- 
sane, site  of,  78 

Boag,  B.  T.,  165 

Boas,  Franz,  helped  organize 
university  in  Mexico,  268 

Boathouse,   site  of,   86 

Books,  total  number  of,  in  li- 
brary, 89 ;  collections  of,  in 
New  York  and  vicinity,  253 

Bookstore,   University,   93 

Botanical  garden,  see  Hosack  Bo- 
tanical Garden 

Boyesen,  Hjalmar  Hjorth,  156, 
162 

Bradley,  W.  A.,  on  Acta  Colum- 
hiana,  195  ;  "  Imaginary  Lec- 
tures "  of,  196 

BrlnckerhoflE  Hall,  Barnard  Col- 
lege, 86 

Britton,  Nathaniel  F.,  11 

Brooks  Hall,  87 

Brunner,  A.  W.,  designer  of 
Mines  Building,  85 

Bryn  Mawr,  men  called  to  Co- 
lumbia from,  148 

Bryson  Library,  91 

Budget,  preparation  of  the,  55- 
56,  214-15  ;  approval  of,  69 

Buildings,  University,  the  central 
group,  82-86 ;  other  buildings, 
86-88  ;  inscriptions  on,  98 ;  ad- 
ditional, needed,  243;  at  dis- 
posal of  city  and  citizens,  254 

Burdick,  F.  M.,  159 

Burgess,  John  W.,  19 ;  on  uni- 
versity organization,  30-31,  44, 
50 ;  initiated  School  of  Political 
Science,  100 ;  appointed  dean  of 
graduate  faculties,  101 

Burnside,   Charles  H.,    148 

Burr,  William  H.,  147,  159 

Bursar,  duties  of  the,  62 

Butler,  Nicholas  Murray,  xiii,  23, 
29-30,  35,  48-49,  52,  56,  65,  66, 
68,  105,  128,  141,  145,  159, 
175,  195,  226,  231,  246,  257, 
266,  271-73 


Camp  Columbia,  buildings  at;  88, 
174  ;  students  at,  207 

Cancer  research,  84 

Canfleld,  James  H.,  developed  ef- 
ficiency of  library,  89 ;  deatb 
of,   162 


INDEX 


289 


Carmalt,  Charles  Churchill,  death 
of,  163 

Carnegie  Foundation,  pensions, 
73 

Carpenter  Memorial  Library  for 
English,  92,  164 

Carpenter,  George  Rice,  work  of, 
107  ;  in   memoriam,   163-64 

Carpenter,   W.   H.,   58 

Carpentier,  H.  W.,  92 

Carryl,  Guy  Wetmore,  and  Co- 
lumbia plays,  193 

Case  system  of  instruction  In 
Law  School,  117 

Catalogues,  annual,  92-93 

Catholic  students,  club  of,  174 

Cattell,  James  McK.,  called  from 
Pennsylvania,  147 ;  as  editor, 
159-60 

Centralization  of  control.  In 
American  universities,  231 ;  In 
Columbia,  232.  235-37 

Certificate  system  of  admission, 
46,   234 

Chairs,  professorial.  Departments 
descended  from,  143,  146 

Chandler,  Charles  F.,  10,  118,  132, 
155,  169,  187 

Chaplain,  home  for,  86 

Charter  of  King's  College,  lib- 
erality of,  xi,  5 

Charter  of  an  American  univer- 
sity proposed  by  Governors  of 
King's  College,  2 

Chemistry,  8,  143 

Chess  Team,  214 

Chicago,  men  from,  148 

Chinese  books,  collection  of,  92 

Church,  Francis  P.,  214 

Churchman's  Association,   174 

Civil  War,  collection  of  newspa- 
per clippings  relating  to,  90 ; 
effect  of,  on  college,  186-87 

Clark,  John  Bates,  152,  267 

Class   Day,   220 

Class  organization,  201 ;  after 
graduation,   204-05 

Clinical  clerkships,  124 

Clinton,  DeWitt,  first  student  to 
enter  Columbia  College,  xll,  1 ; 
correspondence  of,  in  library, 
90 ;  work  of,  for  education, 
128 ;  tried  commencement  riot- 
ers, 221 ;  statue  of,  266 

Cohn,   Adolphe,   147 

Colos.  Dr.  J.  Ackerman,  97 

Collections,  scientific,  95-96 ; 
placed  where  they  will  do  pub- 
lic good,  255 

College,  the  American,  4-5 

College  dean,  home  for,  86 

College  Entrance  Examination 
Board,  17,  46-47  ;  examinations 
of.  In  June,  226-27  ;  brings  In- 
stitutions together,  249 ;  meets 
at  Columbia,  255 

College  Forum,  212 


College  of  Pharmacy  incorporated 
in  University,  38  ;  requirements 
for,  51 ;  financial  assets  of, 
65  ;  had  many  homes,  80 ;  pres- 
ent site,  82,  88 ;  relation  of,  to 
University,  and  standards  of, 
132 ;  alumni  association,  202 

College  of  Physicians  and  Sur- 
geons, brought  back  to  Colum- 
bia, 9-10,  37,  120;  Vanderbilt 
gift  to,  25 ;  proportion  of  an- 
nual expense  met  by  earnings 
in,  74 ;  description  of  buildings 
of,  87-88 ;  organization  and  de- 
velopment of,  120-26 ;  alumni 
association  of,  202 

College  Tavern,  188 

Collins,  E.  T.,  192 

Columbia  College,  early  financial 
struggles,  xU ;  wealthy  In  men 
who  served  her,  xiii ;  complex 
of  schools  clustered  about,  xiii- 
xiv  ;  academic  troubles,  xiv-xv  ; 
students  and  type  of  Instruction 
In,  before  1857,  5-6 ;  work  of 
Pres.  Barnard  for,  14 ;  present 
conditions,  105-11 ;  alumni  in 
faculty  of,  147 ;  students  ad- 
mitted to  advanced  standing  In, 
198 ;  spirit  of  competition  In, 
260 

Columbia  Law  Review,  92,  178, 
183 

Columbia  University  Club,  205 

Columbia  University  Contribu- 
tions to  Education,  94 

Columbia  University  Dramatic 
Association,    194,    213 

Columbia  University  Press,  93 

Columbia  University  Quarterly,  93 

Columbian,  196,   212 

Columbiana,  90,  167 

"  Column,"  The,  194 

Combined  course  of  collegiate  and 
professional  study,  49-51;  op- 
portunities at  Barnard  for,  114  ; 
Dr.  Slosson  commends,  229 ;  ex- 
tension of,  to  include  indepen- 
dent college,  249 

Commencement,  xiv,  219-25 

Committee  on  Admissions,  18,  47. 
109 

Committee  on  College  Course,  4, 
6-8,  7-8 

Committee  on  Instruction,  102, 
107,  108.  259 

Competition,  methods  for  Intel- 
lectual, 110-11  ;  as  stimulus  to 
good  work,  259-60 

Contests,  Class,  209 

Continental  Congress,  221 

Controller,  duties  of  the  univer- 
sity, 61 

Controller  of  student  organiza- 
tions,  201 

Convontlon,  mock  political,  218 

Cooper,  Myles,  revised  curriculum 


290 


INDEX 


of  college,  105 ;  from  Oxford, 
147 ;  as  president,  170 ;  story 
of  escape  from  college,  170- 
71 ;   called  to   college,   248 

Cooper  Union,  alliance  with,  38 

Cornell  University,  231,  250 

Corporations,  relations  of  inde- 
pendent, and  university,  39-40, 
52 ;  financial  assets  of,  65 ;  to- 
tal of  budgets  of,  215 

Council,  The,  see  University 
Council 

Crampton,    Henry   E.,   149 

Crews,  famous,   190 

Crocker,  Francis  B.,    147 

Crocker,  George,  bequest  of,  for 
cancer  research,   123 

Cunliffe,  John  W.,   133,  148 

Curriculum,  revisions  of  college, 
105-06 ;  undergraduate,  articu- 
lated with  public  school  sys- 
tem, 255 

Curtis,  Carlton  C,  160 

Curtis,  George  Wm.,  academic 
memorial  to,  68 

Curtis,  John  G.,  administered 
Hippocratic   Oath,   223 

Custis,  John  Parke,  description  of 
college  life  in  letters  of,  184- 
85 

Cutting,  Leonard,  147 

D 

Dalton,  Dr.  John  C,  120,  167 
Davias,  Charles,  9,  147,  159 
Dean  Lung  Professorship,  92 
Deans,    duties    of,    etc.,    39,    58, 

215,  223,  259 
Debating,    history   of,    at    Colum- 
bia,  194-95 
Debating  society,  first,  185 
Debt  and  deficit,  problem  of,  75- 

77 
Degree  with  honors,  110-11 
Degrees,   academic,    held   by    pro- 
fessors,    146,     148 ;     held     by 
students,  197 ;  number  granted 
at  Commencement,  222 
Delafleld,  Dr.  Francis,  120 
Department  collections  and  read- 
ing rooms,  91-92 
Departmental  organization,  36 
Departmental   societies,   157 
Departments,    of    instruction,    69, 

74,  140,  141-44,  214-15 
Deutsches  Haus,   86,  94,  255 
Devine,  Edward  T.,  147,  268 
Dewey,  John,  148,  261,  266-67 
Dewey,      Melvil,      appointed      li- 
brarian, 89 
Directors,  duties  of  the,  58 
Discipline,   student,  in  Report  of 
Com.  on  College  Course,  7 ;  In 
early  days,   186 
Divisions,     grouping     of     depart- 
ments In,  142-43 


Doctor  of  philosophy,  degree  of, 
first  conferred,  20 ;  first  re- 
ceived by  a  woman,  102 ;  num- 
ber conferred  by  Columbia, 
103 ;  number  of,  and  source  in 
faculties,  148 ;  as  a  badge  of 
efficiency  for  teaching,  264 

Dodge,  M.  H.,  225 

Dodge,  Richard  Elwood,  159 

Dodge,  W.  E.,  gave  Earl  Hall,  174 

Dormitories,  83,  85 ;  and  student 
life,  174  ;  self-governing,  200 : 
well  filled,  208-09;  Christmas 
festivities  in,  213 

Dorms,  The,  211 

Dormitory  for  women,  87 

Dow,  A.  W.,  work  of,  127 

Drama,  college,  193-94 

Dramatic  museum,  96 

Drisler,  Henry,  service  of,  to  Co- 
lumbia, 169 ;  presented  with 
gold  medal,  221 

Duer,  William  A.,  President,  170. 
172 

Dunning,  William  A.,  Lleber  pro- 
fessor, 166 

Dwight,  Theodore  W.,  xlv,  9,  20- 
21,  30 ;  Infiuence  and  method 
of  instruction  of,  115-16,  167 

B 

Earl  Hall,  83,  174,  210 

Earle,  Mortimer  L.,  called  from 
Bryn  Mawr,  148;  death  of, 
163 

Early  Eighties,  205;  on  Alumni 
Day,    216-17 

Earning  capacity,  problem  of, 
73-75 

East  Field,  84,  88 

East   Hall,   site  of,   86 

Education,  a  science,  Pres.  Bar- 
nard on,  14,  22-23;  Columbia's 
share  in  development  of,  127- 
28 ;  national  interest  in  higher, 
228 ;  extraordinary  development 
of,  in  United  States,  233;  re- 
search in,  265 

Education,  primary,  new  plan  of 
Professors  Dewey  and  Russell 
for,    266-67 

Educational    Museum,   96 

Educational  Review,  94,   159 

Egbert,  J.  C,  137 

Egleston,  Thomas,  10,  118,  147, 
167 

Egleston  Mineralogical  Museum, 
96 

Elective  courses,  14-16,  106 

Eliot,  Charles  W.,  26 

Ely,  R.  T.,  147 

Employment  secretary,  62 

Encyclopedia  Britannlca,   159 

Endowment,  gifts  for,  66 

Engineer,  influence  of,  117-18;  so- 
cial responsibility  of,  261 


INDEX 


291 


Engineering,  courses  In,  21,  118- 
19,  198,  244 

Engineering  Building,  83 

Engineering  School,  admission  re- 
quirements, 51 

English,  as  college  subject,  106 ; 
largest  department,  143 

Entrance  examinations,  46-47 

Equipment,  94-98 

Ersliine,  John,  182-83,  192,  198 

Examinations,  47,  110,  208,  212, 
216.  219 

Exchange  professorships,  248 

Extension  Teaching,  under  control 
of  council,  43 ;  beginnings  and 
development  of,  137-39 

Externalism,  231-32 


Faculties,  University,  39,  140-41, 
142,  235-36.  237-38 

Faculty,  underlying  Interest  of, 
140  ;  strength  and  usefulness  of, 
142 ;  relations  between  stu- 
dents and,  155 

Faculty  budgets,  141,  144 

Faculty  Club,  86,  151,  215,  238 

Faculty  of  Education,  142 

Faculty  of  Fine  Arts,  127,  142 

Faculty  of  Philosophy,  need  for, 
30 ;  created,  101 ;  relations  with 
Teachers  College,   101 

Faculty  of  Political  Science,  100- 
01 ;  relations  with  the  Law 
School,  101 ;  public  debates  by 
members  of,  255 

Faculty  of  Practical  Arts,  142 

Faculty  of  Pure  Science,  100 ; 
founded  in  School  of  Mines, 
101,  118;  relations  with  Medi- 
cine and  Engineering,  101 ; 
present  strength.  240 

Faculty-senior  baseball  game,  157, 
220 

Farm,  at  Fishkill,  82.  88 

Fayerweather  Hall,  83 

Fees,  student.  Income  from,  70, 
71,  73-75 

Fellowships,  provision  made  for, 
19 ;  twenty -four  establisbed, 
103 

Featschriften,  154 

Financial  assets,  65-66 

Fine  Arts,  16,  241 

Fine  Arts  collections,  Avery  li- 
brary one  of  the  great,  91 ;  cat- 
alogue of  the  university,  96 

Fish,  Hamilton,  trustee,  xili ; 
member  of  committee  on  college 
course,   4 

Fish,  Hamilton,  III.  190 

Fisher,   George,   165 

Fiske    Hall,    Barnard  College,    86 

Football,  alwlitlon  of,  xiv,  191-92 

Forestry,  242 

Forty-Nlners,  205 


Forty-ninth  Street  site,  sale  of, 
75  ;  occupation  of,  78 

France,  agreement  with  for  visit- 
ing professors,  38 

Fraternities,  Greek  letter  at  Co- 
lumbia, 176-77,  211-12 

Freshmen  -  Sophomore  contests, 
209.  213 

Functional  administration,  37 

Furnald  Hall,  83,  85 


Gebhard,  Frederick,  bequest  of,  70 

Gemot,  the,  188 

Germany,  agreement  with,  for  vis- 
iting professors,  38 

Glddlngs,  Franklin  H.,  148 

Giddings  and  Shotwell,  collections 
of  original  documents,  159 

Gifts  to  Columbia,  66-69 ;  sources, 
66-68 ;  value  of  freedom  In  use 
of,  68-69 

Glider,  Richard  Watson,  memorial 
fellowship   to,   68 

Gildersleeve,  Virginia  C,  Dean  of 
Barnard  College,  112 

Gill,  Laura  D.,  Dean  of  Barnard, 
114 

Goetze,  F.  A.,  Dean  of  Faculty  of 
Applied  Science,  119 

Goodnow,  Frank  J.,  farewell  trib- 
ute to,  154-55  ;  services  of,  at 
Washington  and  In  China,  268 

Goodwood  Cup  awarded  to  most 
popular  junior,  188 

Graduate  faculties,  the,  99-104 ; 
Political  Science,  100;  Philoso- 
phy, and  Pure  Science,  101 ; 
problems  of,  104,  260 

Graduate  students,  at  Teachers 
College,  179 ;  proportion  of.  In 
student  body,  197 ;  migration 
of,  250 ;  fitness  for  research, 
263 

Graduate  study,  established  on  a 
permanent  basis,  14  ;  Pres.  Bar- 
nard on,  18 ;  In  science,  20 

Greek   games,    Barnard,    178,   219 

Grounds  and  buildings,  oflSce  of, 
61 

Growth  by  treaty,  policy  of,  36, 
112 

Growth,  percentage  of,  In  entire 
Institution,  244 

Gnyot,  Arnold,  8 

Gymnasium,  the,  95,  206-07,  209, 
212,  222,  223 


Hackley,  C.  W.,  from  West  Point, 

147 
Hadley,   Arthur  T.,   on   combined 

course,  50 
Haight,   Charles  C,  architectural 

scheme  of,  79 


292 


INDEX 


Hall,  Charles  Cuthbert,  death  of, 
163 

Hamilton,  Alex.,  trained  at  King's 
College,  xli,  2 ;  organized  Uni- 
versity of  State  of  New  York, 
127 ;  helped  Myles  Cooper,  170, 
185;  statue  of,  266 

Hamilton  Hall,  83,  85,  91,  97, 
188 

Hamlin,  A.  D.  F.,  126-27 

Harkness,  Edward  S.,  gifts  of, 
96 ;  provided  surgical  pavilion 
at  Presbyterian  Hospital,  124- 
25 

Harper,  Robert  A.,  called  from 
Wisconsin,  148 ;  Torrey  Profes- 
sor of  Botany,  166 

Harpur,  Robert,  from  Glasgow, 
147 

Harris,  William,  President,  170, 
172 

Harris,    William  T.,   26 

Harrison,  Henry  Sydnor,  193 

Hartley  Hall,  83,  213,  214 

Harvard  University,  financial  as- 
sets compared  with,  71 ;  men 
called  to  Columbia  from,  147 

Havemeyer  Hall,  83 

Henley,  winning  crew  at,  188 

Herbarium  of  Prof.  Torrey,  69 

Herter,   Christian   Archibald,    163 

Hervey,  Walter  L.,  128 

Hewitt,  Abram  S.,  organizer  of 
Alumni  Association,  201 ;  at 
dedication  of  new  site,  252 

Hlppocratlc  Oath,  223-24 

Hispanic  Society,  255 

Hiss,  Philip  Hanson,  163 

History,  department  of,  143 

Holland,  agreement  with,  for  vis- 
iting professors,  38  . 

Honor  courses,  110-11,  183,  245, 
259 

Honorary  degrees,  224 

Hopkins,   E.   W.,   147 

Hopkins,  Mark,  6 

Horace  Mann  School,  87,  130-31 

Hosack,  Dr.  David,  11 

Hosack  Botanical  Garden,  gift  of 
State  to  college,  3,  70 ;  income 
from  grounds  of,  66 ;  portion  of, 
sold,  76 ;  scheme  to  build  on, 
78;  secured  for  college,  171 

Hospital  interneships,  260 

Hospital  opportunities  for  medi- 
cal students,  123-25 

Household  Arts  building,   87,   243 

Howells  and  Stokes,  architects  of 
chapel,  85 


"  Igala,"  student  play,  I93 
In   Memorlam,    162-64 
Income,  3,  33,  70-71 
Industrial  Education  Association, 
128 


Inscriptions  on  buildings,  98 
Institute   of    Arts   and    Sciences, 

137,  139,  212 
Institutions  sending  graduates  to 

Columbia,  list  of,  197 
Inter-class  song  contest,   217 
Intercollegiate       Civic       League, 

218 


Jackson,  A.  V.  W.,  149 

James,  William,  154,  213 

Janeway,  E.  G.,  91,  165 

Jay,  John,   xii,  2,  266 

Jefferson,  Thomas,  26 

Jester,   196 

Jewish   students,   179-81 

Johnson,  Samuel,  first  president, 
prophetic  vision  of,  xiii,  5 ; 
announcement  of  King's  Col- 
lege, 64;  from  Yale,  147,  170; 
foremost  educator  of  his 
time,  170 ;  prayer  composed  by, 
210 

Johnson,  William  Samuel,  from 
Yale,    170 ;    first   lay    president, 

170,  171 ;  of  national  influence, 

171,  266 

Journalism,   work  in,  95,   133-34, 

259 
Junior  Week,  216 


Keen,  Dr.  W.  W.,  on  students, 
156 

Keener,  William  A.,  116,  147, 
167 

Keener  and  Burdick,  collections 
of  cases  by,  159 

Kemp,  John,  11 

Kennedy,  John  Stewart,  bequests 
of,  xlil.  67 

Kent  Hall,  83,  85 

Kent's  Commentaries  based  on 
law  lectures,  6,  115 ;  influence 
of,  266 

Keyser,  Casslus  J.,  151,  166 

King,  Charles,  President,  4,  6,  12, 
57,  170,  172,  189,  242 

King,  Gen.  Charles,  186-87 

King,   Rufus,   trustee,  172 

King's  College  founded  by  New 
Yorkers,  xl ;  part  of,  in  found- 
ing Republic,  xli ;  Pres.  John- 
son's announcement  of,  64 ; 
funds  of,  65 ;  original  charges 
of,  73;  site  of,  77;  library 
of,  88-89;  list  of  students, 
92 

Kirby,  Gustavus  T.,  190 

Knox,  G.  W.,  death  of,  163 

Knox,  Dr.  John,  member  of 
Commiteee  on  College  Course, 
4 

Kultusministerium,  234 


INDEX 


293 


La  Farge  windows  in  chapel,  97 

Laboratories,  development  of,  94- 
95 

Laboratory  methods  of  teaching, 
108 

Lamb,  Hugh,  86 

Lambert,  Dr.  S.  W.,  dean  of  Col- 
lege of  Physicians  and  Sur- 
geons, 122,  123-24,  126 

Land,  xii,  3,  66 

Landscape  architecture,  242 

Lathrop,   W.  G.,  189 

Law,  115,  261 

Law  library,  91 

Law  Review,  260 

Law  School,  see  School  of  Law 

Lectures,  public,  137,  159.  212-13 

Lee,  Frederic  Schiller,  9,  121, 
148 

Legislative  drafting,  gift  for,  265 

Leland  Stanford,  men  called  to 
Columbia  from,  148 

Library,  the,  memorial  gift  of 
Seth  Low,  34 ;  cornerstone  of, 
laid,  80 ;  central  feature  of 
architectural  scheme,  82 ;  in- 
terior of,  85 ;  development  of, 
89-91 ;  need  of  support  for, 
241-42 

Lieber,  Francis,  6,  9,  147,  161, 
166,  266,  267 

Lima,  university  at,  249 

Limitation  of  numbers,  problems 
of,  244-45 

Lindsay,  S.  McC,  147 

Literary  Monthly,  196 

Literary  societies,  plays  given  by, 
194 

Livingston,  Robert  R.,  trained  at 
King's  College,  xii,  2 

Livingston  Hall,  83 

Lodge,  Gonzalez,  148,  158 

London  University,  245,  252 

Lord,  Austin  W.,  127 

Low,  Abiel  Abbot,  library  a  mem- 
orial to,  34 

Low,  Seth,  29-35,  50,  65,  66, 
71,  76,  78,  80,  89,  102,  137, 
147-48,  150,  156,  199,  220,  221, 
226,  235,  246,  254,  267 

Lowell,  A.  L.,  109-10,  220 

M 

McCulloh,  Richard  S.,  6,  167 

MacDowell,  Edward  A.,  147,  163 

McGowan,  Patrick,  95 

McKlm,  Charles  F.,  inscription  in 
honor  of,   79-80 

McKim,  Mead,  and  White,  archi- 
tectural scheme  of,  72,  79-80, 
85 

McLane,  Dr.  James  W.,  25,  121, 
122,  167 

McMurry,  Frank  Morton,  159 


McVickar,  John,  formulated  prin- 
ciples  of   banking   system,    165 

Macy,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  V.  Everit, 
gave  Horace  Mann  building,  131 

Macy  Manual  Arts  building,  87 

Malson  Frangaise,  86,  94 

Mapes,  Charles  H.,  Herbert  and 
Victor,  189-90 

Marsh,  G.  P.,  "  History  of  the 
English  Language,"  8 

Mason,   John  M.,   provost,   173-72 

Matthews,  Brander,  16,  32,  147 

Mayo-Smith,  Richmond,  death  of, 
162 

Mechanical  engineering  labora- 
tory, 94-95 

Medical  School,  6,  76.  80,  88,  91, 
121-25,  147,  148,  167,  174,  241, 
243,  269 

Medicine,  early  requirements  for 
course  in,  44  :  students  of,  and 
university  life,  178 ;  reduction 
in  students  of,  244 ;  training 
for  students  of,  259 

Memorials,   academic,   67-68 

Merriam,  Augustus  C.,  155,  162, 
166 

Metropolitan  Museum  of  Art,  al- 
liance with,  38 

Milbank,  Joseph,  donor  of  Mil- 
bank  Hall,  Teachers  College,  87 

Milbank  Hall,  Barnard  College,  86 

Milbank  Quadrangle,  86,  87 

Miller,  Edmund  Howd,  162,  163 

Mines   Building,   83,   85 

Mining,  laboratory  equipment  In, 
95,  160 

Mltchlil,  Dr.  Samuel  Latham,  11, 
166,  167,  266 

Monroe,  Paul,  Cyclopedia  of  Edu- 
cation. 159 

Moore,  Benjamin,  President,  170, 
171 

Moore,  Clement  C,  "  'Twas  the 
Night  Before  Christmas,"  214 

Moore,  John  Bassett,  267,  269 

Moore,  Nathaniel  F.,  President, 
170,   172,   186 

Morgan,  .T.  Pierpont,  90-91 

Morgan,  T.  H.,  148 

Morley,   W.  R.,   190 

Morningside,  196 

Morningside  Heights,  removal  to, 
71,  79 

Morris,  Connecticut,  summer 
school  of  surveying  at,  82,  119 

Morris,  Gouverneur,  xll 

Mosenthal,  Joseph,  memorial  to, 
68 

Munroe,  Prof.  H.  S.,  118 

Museums,  University,  96 

Musical  organizations,  193 

N 

Nairne,  Charles  Murray,  9,  146, 
147 


294 


INDEX 


Nash,  Stephen  P.,  30,  116 

National  Academy  of  Design, 
agreement  with,  39,  241 

National  Academy  of  Sciences,  21 

Newberry,  John  S.,  10,  11,  266 

New  York  Botanical  Gardens,  al- 
liance with,  38 

New  York,  City  of,  Columbia's 
debt  to,  xi,  252 ;  fortunes  of 
college  and,  bound  closely  to- 
gether, xli,  67 ;  educational  pos- 
sibilities in,  252-53 

New  York  College  for  the  Train- 
ing of  Teachers,  alliance  with 
Columbia,  128 ;  name  changed 
to  Teachers  College,  128 

New  York  Hospital,   124 

New  York  School  of  Philanthropy, 
alliance  with,  38,  101,  103 

New  York  State,  gifts  of,  to  Col- 
lege, 3 

New  York  State  Legislature, 
tract  of  land  given  to  College 
by,  xli ;  adopted  scheme  for 
State  university,  2 ;  gift  of,  to 
College,  65 

New  York  University,  xiv,  172 

New  York  World,  252-53 

New  Yorkers,  gifts  to  Columbia 
from,  67-68 

Nichols  laboratory  for  chemistry, 
95 


Olcott,  George  N.,  death  of,  163 
Older  graduates,  205 
Opening  days,  208-11 
Osborn,  Henry  Fairfield,  147 


Partridge,  William  Ordway,  196 
Pathology,  department  of,  120 
Peabody,  George  F.   and  Charles, 

gift   of   chapel   organ   from,    98 
Peck,  H.  T.,  145,   195,  196 
Peck,  William  G.,  9,  147,  155-56 
Peithologian  Society,  194 
Pellew,  Charles  Ernest,  157 
Pennsylvania,  University  of,  120, 

147 
Pensions,  73 
Pharmacology    and    therapeutics, 

department  of,  established,  122 
Phllolexlan  Society,   194,  195 
Philosophy  Building,  93 
Phoenix,  Stephen  Whitney,  gift  of, 

to  College,  25,  70-71,  89 
Physical  education,  106,  143,  211 
Physics,  143 
Physiology,  120 
Pine,  John  B.,  xv,  78 
Pitkin,  Walter  B..  257 
Plays,  193,  208,  217 
Poe.  Edgar  Allan,  on  Charles  An- 

thon,  168-69 


Political  Science  Quarterly,  93-94. 
159  €"  t 

Politics,  95 

Popular  Science  Monthly,  160 

Portraits  owned  by  University, 
97 

Potter,  Bishop  Horatio,  7 

Practical  Arts,  School  of,  129 

Presbyterian  Hospital,  38,  88. 
124-25 

Prescribed  course  versus  elective, 
106 

President,  powers  and  duties  of 
the,  39,  55-57  ;  position  among 
colleagues,  57 ;  overburdened, 
57-58  ;  reports  of,  93 ;  passes  on 
budget,  215 ;  address  of,  at 
Commencement,  223  ;  summary 
of  year  at  alumni  luncheon, 
224 ;  responsible  for  appoint- 
ments, 238  ;  office  of,  an  Amer- 
ican Invention,  233  ;  powers  and 
responsibilities  of,  235 

President's  House,  84,  85,  150. 
238 

Presidents,  the,  169-72 

Preventive  medicine,  242 

Price,  Thomas  R.,  160,  162 

Princeton,  men  called  to  Colum- 
bia from,  147 

Prltchett,  Henry  S.,  239 

Professional  schools,  14,  20,  37. 
48-51,  100,  141-42,  229,  244, 
258-60 

Professional  students,  proportion 
of,  197 

Professions,  new,  244-45 

Professors,  xiv-xv,  146-60,  236, 
266-69 

Professorship,  some  holders  of 
titled,  165-66;  historical  back- 
ground of  European,  233 

Prosectorships,  183,  260 

Provost,  58,  59 

Public  hygiene,  242 

Public  Library,  255 

Publications,  195-97 

Pulitzer,  Joseph,  67,  133,  134, 
135,  251 

Pulitzer  scholarships,  the,  133, 
199 

Pupin,  Michael  I.,  158 


Quarterly,  see  University  Quar- 
terly 

Quiz,  private.  In  medical  school, 
122 


R 


Reading   rooms.    Department,   91- 

92 
Registrar.  61-62,  206-07 
Registration,    total,    in    graduate 

schools,      103 ;      in      extension 


INDEX 


295 


courses,    138 ;   in   departments, 
143 ;  of  summer  students,  200- 
07.     See  also  Appendix 
Religion  and  morals  at  Columbia, 

174-76 
Religious    toleration    in    original 

charter,  xl,  5 
Rents,  income  from,  70,  71 
Renwick,  James,  166,  266 
Report  of  1857,  1-2,  161,  248 
Research,  123,  125,  154,  158,  240, 

247,  263-65 
Revolution,  the,  effect  of,  on  col- 
lege students,  185 
Rich,  Charles  A.,  architect  of  Bar- 
nard buildings,  86 
Rives,  George  L.,  266 
Roads,  good,  gift  for,  265 
Robinson,     James     Harvey,     147, 

159,  241 
Romanic  Review,  94,  159 
Rood,  Ogden  N.,  12,  162,  166-67 
Roosevelt  professors,  248 
Rowing,   190 
Ruggles,  Samuel,  xili 
Russell,  James  E.,  13,  129-30,  140, 

178-79,  244,  247,  266,  267 
Rutherfurd's     Photographic     Star 
Plates,  96 


Sage,  Mrs.  Russell,  91 

St.  Paul's  Chapel,  83,  85-86,  97- 
98,  174,  210,  213 

Salaries,  academic,  72-73,  144, 
153 

Sayre,  Reginald  H.,  189 

Schermerhorn,  F.  Augustus,  21-22 

Schermerhorn  Hall,  83,  85 

Scholarships,  74 

School  of  Architecture,  21-22, 
118,  126-27 

School  of  Arts,  see  Columbia 
College 

School  of  Education,  «ee  Teach- 
ers College 

School  of  Household  and  Indus- 
trial Arts    51 

School  of  Journalism,  43,  51,  83, 
85,  91,   133-35 

School  of  Law,  xiv,  9,  20-21, 
30,  44,  50,  80,  115-17,  177-78, 
202 

School  of  library  economy,  89 

School  of  Mines.  10,  17,  20,  21, 
44,  118-20.  160,  177,  202 

School  of  Mineft  Quarterly,  94 

School  of  Political  Science,  19, 
100,  133 

Schurz,  Carl,  memorial  to,  68 

Science,  160 

Sculpture  owned  by  University,  97 

Seager,  Henry  R.,  147 

Socretary,  duties  of  the,  60-61 

Seidl,  Anton,  academic  memorial 
to,  68 


Self-government,  student,  17,  199, 
200 

Sellgman,  Edwin  R.  A.,  165 

Semi-annual  Exhibition,  187-88 

Semi-centennial  in  1837,  225 

Senff,  Charles  H.,  92 

Seniors,  10,  50,   218 

Shepherd,  William  R.,  149 

Sherman,  Frank  Dempster,  162. 
163,  196 

Short,  Henry  A.,  167 

Singer,  "  Dean."  165 

Sites,  77,  78,  79-81,  226 

Slichter,  W.  I.,  148 

Sloane  Hospital,  38,  88,  123,  269 

Sloane,  William  M.,  147 

Slosson,  Dr.  E.  E.,  28,  45,  107, 
154,  228-29,  232,  252 

Smith,  Alexander,  148 

Smith,  Charles  Sprague,  156 

Smith,  David  Eugene,  158 

Smith,  E.  R.,  96 

Smith,  Emily  J.,  dean  of  Bar- 
nard, 114 

Smith.  Munroe,  xv,  12.  20,  43, 
49,  50-51,   159,  245-46 

Social  work,  210,  262 

Sophomore  activities,  200,  209, 
213    219 

South' Court,  83,  86 

South   Field.   71-72.   83,   211,   225 

Space,  problem  of,  71 

Special  funds,  gifts  for,  68 

Spectator,  196 

Speyer  School.  82,  87,  131,  269 

Stadium,  plans  for,  86 

"  Stand  Columbia,"  class  poem, 
220 

Statutes  of  1858,  8,  10,  11 

Stevens,  John,  xli 

Stokes,  A.  P.,  Jr.,  270 

Stone,  Harlan  F.,  dean  of  Law 
School,  117,  148 

Stratton,  George  M.,  231 

Student,  increased  opportunities 
for,  40 ;  attention  ^ven  to  the 
Individual,  108-10,  262;  rela- 
tion to  student  body,   173-74 

Student  Board  of  Representatives, 
200,  209,  218 

Student  choir,  210 

Student  clubs,  183,  185-86,  200 

Student  earnings,  62 

Students,  number  of,  x ;  from 
1820-56,  5-6;  matriculation  of. 
In  University,  32 ;  fees  of,  cost 
of  tuition.  74  ;  distribution  of, 
103 ;  practical  work  for.  In  en- 
gineering, 119;  opportunities 
for.  in  medicine,  123-24,  125, 
126  ;  in  architecture,  127  ;  posi- 
tions taken  by  Teachers  College, 
130;  in  Journalism,  1.33,  135; 
attending  summer  session,  136, 
207  ;  In  extension  courses.  138  ; 
relations  with  faculty,  155-58, 
183 ;    manners    of,    184 ;    self- 


296 


INDEX 


supporting,  198-99;  work  of, 
during  summer,  207-08 ;  efforts 
to  assimilate  new,  209-10 ;  lim- 
itation of  numbers  of,  243-44 

Studies  in  History,  Economics, 
and  Public  Law,  94 

Subjects,  in  order  of  preference, 
among  graduate  students,  103 ; 
among  college  students,    106-07 

Summer  camp,  see  Camp  Colum- 
bia 

Summer  session,  43,  118-19,  135- 
36,  179;  preparations  for,  206- 
08,  232 

Surgery,  Department  of,  reorgan- 
ized, 122 

Suzzallo,  Henry,  148 


Tappan,  H.  P.,  Chancellor,  7,  8 
Teachers  College,  organization  of, 
23 ;  incorporated  into  Univer- 
sity, 38-39,  128 ;  local  experi- 
ments in,  52 ;  administrative 
staff  of,  59 ;  financial  assets  of, 
65  ;  friends  of,  72 ;  proportion 
of  expense  met  by  earnings  in, 
74  ;  and  student  limitation,  74  ; 
purchased  land  on  Morningside 
Heights,  79 ;  first  home  of, 
80 ;  description  of  buildings, 
87 ;  library  of,  91 ;  first  report 
of,  93 ;  publications  of,  94 ; 
laboratories  of,  95 ;  physical 
education  at,  95 ;  works  of 
art  at,  97 ;  origin  and  develop- 
ment of,  128-29 ;  schools  of 
education  and  practical  arts, 
129 ;  students  and  graduates 
of,  130 ;  schools  of  observa- 
tion for,  130-31 ;  relations  of, 
to  university.  131-32;  special 
classes  at,  138 ;  value  of  pro- 
ductive work  of,  158 ;  Y.  M. 
C.  A.  at,  174  ;  student  life  at, 
178-79,  198 ;  self-government 
at,  200 ;  educational  confer- 
ences at,  217 ;  excursion  and 
lawn  party,  220 ;  growth  of, 
240;  gifts  to,  261 
Teachers  College  Alumni  Associa- 
tion, 202,  204 
Teachers  College  Record,  94 
Teaching    efficiency    in,    47,    107, 

161.  257-61.  264 
Teaching   staff,   strengthened    un- 
der Pres.   Low,   32-33 ;   number 
of  members  and  organization  of, 
140 
Tenure,  permanence  of,  150,  257- 

58 
Text-hooks.  8,  159 
Thanksgiving  services,  213 
Theological  seminaries,  38,   103 
Thomas,  Calvin,  243 
Thomas,  Martha  Carey,  148 


Thompson,  J.  J.,  152 

Thompson      Physical      Education 

Building,   87,  95 
Todd,  Henry  Alfred,  159 
Tombo,  Rudolf,  159,  203 
Tompkins,  Daniel  D.,  xii,  128 
Toronto,  University  of,  250 
Torrey,  Dr.  John,  11,  69,  96,  132, 

166,   266 
Townsend,  Fitzhugh,  death  of,  163 
Track  athletics.  190-91 
Treadwell.  Daniel,  147 
Trent,  William  P.,  15,  269 
Trinity   Church,   xii,  3,   65-66,   77 
Trophy  Room,  Athletic,  96 
Trowbridge,  Wm.  Petit,  118,  147, 

266 
Trust  funds,  income  from,  71 
Trustees,    24,    53-55,    66-67,    121, 

150,     153,     156,     203-04,     215, 

232-33.  237-38 
Tucker,  Ervin  A.,  death  of,  163 
Tufts,  Frank  Leo,  death  of,  163 

U 

Undergraduate  activities,   181-89 

Undergraduate  college,  vital  func- 
tion of,  245 

Undergraduate  teaching,  161-62 

Undergraduates,  7,  157,  197,  216, 
261-62 

Union  Theological  Seminary,  40, 
81 

Unity,  architectural,  82 

Universities,  American,  four 
strains  of  influence  on,  228 ; 
criticism  of  organization  of, 
12-30 ;  centralization  of  power 
In,  231 ;  contrasted  in  organiza- 
tion with  English  and  Conti- 
nental, 233-34  ;  weakness  of,  on 
ffisthetlc  side,  241 ;  co-opera- 
tion among,  desirable,  249-50 ; 
association  of,  249 ;  centers  of 
patriotism    and    progress,    270- 

Universlties,  German  and  Amer- 
ican, 117 ;  contrasted  as  to  ad- 
ministration, 233-34 

University  hibliography,  92.  160 

University  corporation,  40,  52, 
69-70,  72,  81-82.  197 

University  Council,  aid  to  admin- 
istrative unity,  36 ;  powers  as- 
signed to.  41-42 ;  investigation 
conducted  by,  42-43 ;  impor- 
tance of  work  of,  43 ;  recom- 
mendation of,  on  combined 
courses,  50 ;  and  graduate 
schools,  101 ;  place  of,  in  organ- 
ization, 140 ;  approves  aca- 
demic calendar,  206 ;  meetings 
of,  211 ;  possible  link  between 
departments   and   trustees,    238 

University  Green,  83.  86,  208 

University  Hall,  82-83 


INDEX 


297 


University  of  the  State  of  New 
York,  127 

University  organization,  initial 
steps  toward,  29-31 ;  conference 
about,  32 ;  double  pattern  of, 
140 ;  two  schools  of  thought 
as  to,  140-41  ;  questions  arising 
as  to  the  present  and  future, 
229-30;  centralization  in,  232, 
235  ;  need  for  elasticity  in,  237- 
38 ;  alumni  control  in,  238-40 

University  physician,  211 

University  Press,  52,  159,  242 

University  Quarterly,  92-93,  152, 
159.   239-40,  256-57 

University  teas,  150 

Upjohn,  Richard,  78 

Upper  Eighties,  205 

Upper  estate,  76,  77 


Van  Amrlnge,  John  H.,  preserver 
of  historical  traditions,  xv ;  on 
distinguished  alumni,  5 ;  on 
Pres.  Barnard,  12 ;  popularity 
of,  155,  169;  interested  In 
alumni  association,  201 ;  tribute 
to,   at  retirement,   221 

Vanderbllt  Clinic,  Incorporated 
into  University,  38  ;  site  of,  88  ; 
opportunities  for  medical  stu- 
dents in,  123 ;  attendance  at, 
269 

Vanderbilt  gift  to  College  of 
Physicians  and  Surgeons,  25, 
67,  71,  120 

Vardill,  John,  147 

•Varsity  Show,  217 

Verplanck,  Samuel,  1 

Vinton,  Francis  L.,  10,  118,  147 

Virginia,  University  of,  250 

Visiting  professors,  8-9,  38,  40-41 

W 

Walker,  A.  L.,  148 
Ware.  William   R.,   22,   126,   165, 
167-68 


Waring,  Col.,  academic  memorial 
to,  68 

Washington  College,  amalgama- 
tion with,  considered,  78 

Washington,  George,  94 ;  of  1779, 
221  °  »        » 

Wayland,  Francis,  6,  7,  26,  186 

Wealth,  origin  of  Columbia's,  x  ; 
sources  of  present,  65-66 

Weed,  Ella,  dean  of  Barnard, 
114 

Weekes,  H.   H.,   190 

Weeks,  Stephen,  164-65 

West  Point,  5,  147 

White,  Alfred,  90-91 

Whittler  Hall,  dormitory  of 
Teachers  College,  72 

Williams,  Talcott,  133 

Wilson.  E.  B.,  148,  158 

Wisconsin,  University  of,  148, 
251 

Women,  higher  education  of,  14; 
Barnard  on,  23-24 ;  first  step 
made  by  trustees  toward  edu- 
cation of,  24  ;  combined  courses 
for,  50 ;  gifts  of,  to  Columbia, 
67  ;  advanced  courses  for,  102  ; 
graduate  Instruction  for,  113; 
what  Columbia  has  done  for, 
229.  269-70 

Woodberry,  George  Edward,  157, 
168 

Woodbridge,  F.  J.  E.,  104,  250, 
264 

Woodward,  Robert  S.,  11,  168 

Worthington  and  Allis  engineer- 
ing laboratories,  95 


Yale  University,  170,  249 
Young    Men's    Christian    Associa- 
tion, 174 


Zinsser,  Hans,   148 
Zoological    Park,    alliance    with, 
38 


'^iniilliliil 


